One More Time
by Kaatje7
Summary: Part Two of GS Series. After the events of Red Sun Rising Gary is in a bad way, Ron comes to the rescue and adventure ensues. GS/OC son of canon char slash.
1. The Sound Of Silence

Part One - _The Sound Of Silence_

Hello darkness my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

**The Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel**

_A West End café, London, November 1945_

Gary sat across from Phoebe in a West End place they often frequented. Gary sipped the last of his tea from the cup disappointed and surprised to have reached the end. He was looking down at the table not thinking of much. A man came into the café on crutches and Gary looked up with a start. For a moment he had thought it was Xavier although this man had slightly darker hair and a scar across his cheek.

Michael sat on another chair quietly chewing on a sandwich. The man went to a table nearby, as he sat he noticed Gary watching him and smiled. Gary instinctively smiled back and although he knew it wasn't Xavier he was touched by the similarities. A lump came to his throat, not a day had passed since their meeting without some thought of him; sometimes he possessed his mind so completely. Gary sighed as he turned once more to studying the leaves of tea in the dregs of his cup.

Somewhere in the space-time continuum Xavier endured another war as he and his family endured the relentlessly ever present rationing. Gary was very hungry; he had been driven to distraction for months, yet another thing he could hardly expect Phoebe to understand. She was suffering too though, had it been so unkind to keep them so well fed throughout the war?

"Taken up fortune telling now have you?" Phoebe asked with a sarcastic snap.

Gary smiled grimly, his mind miles away, "If only," he reflected.

"Have you been listening to a word I've said?" Phoebe demanded, she slapped a hand on the table making Michael jump, "Have you?"

Gary was forced to snap out of his memories and join Phoebe in the present, whenever that was; it made him angry, it was hard to grieve for a loss that nobody could understand. He was angry with himself too; it had just been a short fling, why did Xavier's memory haunt him so?

He slowly looked up at Phoebe, it didn't used to be like this; he might have known he couldn't survive in the past full time, he just disappointed her now. He was nothing but a barman and somebody to help out with the accounts. His dashing impressive spy persona had disappeared with the time portal and his endless supply of goodies. The song-writing thing had had to go too, he couldn't remember half the words to some of the songs he had already 'written'; he certainly couldn't accurately reproduce songs he had heard no more recently than six months ago when he had never sung them before.

"Everybody has had trouble adjusting to peace, what makes you so different that you have to sulk for the rest of your entire life?" Phoebe continued, people on other tables were staring, Gary hardly noticed.

"I'm all right," Gary said without conviction. He went back to staring at his finished tea; why couldn't they just leave this place and go home? At least there he could pretend to do something while his mind tortured him with memories of Xavier.

"You're all right?" Phoebe continued relentlessly, "You've hardly been the same man since you gave up your war work, I hardly know you anymore; you won't talk to me, how can I help if you won't tell me?"

"I will be all right, I just need time."

"There's a man over there who has been crippled by this war and he's younger than you are," Phoebe went on referring to the young man Gary had already been observing, "Do you see him sitting with his face as long as a wet weekend?"

The man on crutches was now seated at a table. Gary looked up and the man smiled at him again. The emotions welled up inside him, if Phoebe didn't stop he was going to explode with them and how would he explain that? He was screaming inside, all he wanted was for her to be quiet, to stop asking questions that he had no reasonable answer for; she was right, he wasn't the same man. He had no heart for lies and cover-ups; he didn't have Ron to help him out, to talk to. Only when Ron was lost to him did he realise how much he had relied on him; he had been the only one who knew, the only one that could provide support.

Gary suddenly remembered something; Xavier had said that they would be all right, Phoebe and he; he had told him that he had nothing to worry about. Yes, he would stick with Phoebe, he would need proof of adultery to get a divorce anyway; ironic really that he couldn't provide it. As far as history was concerned they would have seemed to be OK.

"One minute you're silent and morose, the next you're grinning at some private joke, then you're all morose again," Phoebe cut through his daydream one last time, "If you don't start talking to me I'm going home and I'm taking Michael with me. Then, Gary Sparrow, I'm packing some things and I'm taking Michael to see my Gran."

"But Phoebe, you can't leave me," Gary pleaded looking up.

"Oh, you managed to grasp the fact that this means I'm leaving you? Maybe Gary Sparrow is still in there after all." Phoebe snapped.

"OK, we'll talk, let's go home and we'll talk," Gary said grasping her arm.

Phoebe looked to Michael, who was starting to look upset, she turned back to Gary,

"No, maybe it's not such a good idea after all," she said, "It's too late, you're only saying this now because I've mentioned the leaving word, it didn't bother you so much a minute ago." Phoebe shook her arm free and put her coat on. Michael stood up and she took his hand.

"Don't go; I love you." Gary pleaded; Phoebe let a tear moisten her cheek as she turned to the door. As they reached the door Phoebe turned back,

"Have you any idea how long it has been since you said that?" she said before grabbing Michael firmly and hurling him out of the café and out onto the street.

Once Gary was left alone he began to feel overwhelmingly desolate. What was he doing, what was he thinking of? He was striking out at the only person he had left, that's what he was doing. It wasn't Phoebe's fault that he kept screwing things up, that his head was a mess. All she had done was dream of them finally being together and then patiently waited for the war to end. She hadn't asked him to go wandering through time portals the wrong way round, taking drugs, going to nightclubs, not to mention the other thing. What was he left with if he lost Phoebe? Reg, that's what.

Maybe it was that final thought that spurred him on or maybe he was always going to go after her, he didn't know. All he knew was that he was on his feet, putting his coat on and heading for the door with more purpose in his stride than he had in many months. He had struggled with two lives for so many years; he was just missing the buzz that was all. He needed to put his remaining future knowledge to some use. Not something that required a specific memory but something he could get involved in which he knew would succeed. All this was going through his head as he briskly walked through the streets on his way back to the Mayfair flat. It was all so straight and clear now, he wouldn't let Phoebe leave him, he would show her, prove to her he could pull himself back onto his feet.

Gary was rushing through the Saturday afternoon crowds or trying to, it was so busy and the way would not part for him to pass. The whole world was oblivious to his hurry. He had to catch up with Phoebe somehow. He could only gain heart from the fact that she wouldn't be making any faster progress.

The crowd thickened as Gary reached the walkway in front of a department store. What were they all doing, Gary thought, there wasn't much to be bought. Somewhere out in front of him he thought he saw Phoebe, it looked like her hat, which is all he could see. He tried his best to speed up, to stand half a chance of catching up. Maybe he should have just let her cool off and made his way back to Mayfair leisurely. Now that he had decided though he just had to do it, maybe she would appreciate the urgency of his actions.

Yes, there in front of him, the woman wearing Phoebe's hat hurried along dragging a small boy behind her, her head was bent and she held a handkerchief to her nose. She was having no more success than he at getting through the crowds; he gained a little ground. Phoebe approached a junction and just as Gary thought he could get close enough to call out a pram blocked his path. Frustrated, he called out 'Phoebe' anyway. She was stepping out onto the road but turned at the sound of his voice. She continued looking around, searching for him, she could not see him amongst all the people. She stepped backward as she looked.

Gary became aware that Phoebe was no longer surrounded by the other people; she stood on the edge of the road, Michael still clutching her hand. He called her name again; she tearfully looked around the people in front still searching for him. A bus was approaching the junction, it was not slowing down; the next stop was not for another hundred yards. Gary saw it coming and he called Phoebe's name again. She didn't hear this time, Gary tried to push forward but the crowd was too thick before him. He shouted and pushed but they remained immovable. Phoebe was looking into the distance directly at him, then she abruptly turned away and pulled Michael forward hurrying once more. Then there was screaming, an awful lot of screaming; so loud was the screaming that Gary thought his head would burst.

_The Mayfair apartment, early morning, 4th May 1946_

Gary sat up suddenly in bed gasping for air. Sweat was pouring down his back yet he was impossibly cold. He trembled with the sound of the screams still echoing in his ears. Somehow he was vaguely aware that the screams had been his. He grabbed the covers and slumped back down on the pillow, no he was too uncomfortable to even lie there now.

Gary got up and wrapped his dressing gown around himself, it pressed his pyjamas against his skin which made the clammy dampness feel worse; he would have to get changed. He stripped off his clothes and patted his shivering body with a towel; his heart was still racing far too fast.

Gary looked at the drawer that held his clean bed things and then to the pile of day clothes on the end of the bed. He wasn't going back to sleep, even if he tried and since he knew that, there was no point dressing as if he was. Sleeping had become useless despite his crippling fatigue; if it wasn't one nightmare it was the other.

He wasn't sure which one he preferred, the one where Phoebe and his son got run over by a bus in front of his eyes or the one where Xavier was smiling down at him from the window of the Mayfair apartment as it took a direct hit and blew apart. At least when he dreamt of Michael and Phoebe he knew what the truth of the matter was. Yes, he thought, the dream about Xavier was possibly the worst though it didn't carry the guilt factor; at least Xavier and he had parted well.

The Phoebe and Michael dream was almost the same each time only he kept getting closer to them before the bus struck. The crowd though, got thicker each time so there was still no hope that he could get through in time. All the difference it made was that he saw more horror as it happened; there had hardly been any blood the first time. All this was concocted by his imagination and fuelled by his guilt. None of this was the truth; he relived something he hadn't been there to witness. That was where the guilt came in; he wished that she had known one last time that he cared.

He had never said 'I love you', not within her hearing anyway. He hadn't had a sudden rush of conscience and gone running after her; he'd had a gradual coming round that had come too late. He had stayed in the café in a sullen huff after Phoebe had dragged his son from his presence forever. She had walked out silently with Michael and had never turned back because the words he had wanted to say had suddenly died in his throat as she stood glowering at him with her coat on, ready to leave.

He had ordered himself another cup of tea and had drunk it slowly. Then he had walked back to the Mayfair flat at a leisurely pace, he remembered it all as clear as yesterday. He had opened the door to the apartment feeling numb and had sunk into an armchair. He hadn't looked to see if their things had been picked up, packed into suitcases and taken. He hadn't done anything at all; he had just sat and stared at the wall until the knock on the door came. The knock on the door that changed everything, their things still weren't packed into suitcases; they were still hung in the wardrobes and laid in the drawers just as they had been that dark winter's day.

Life isn't a movie Gary, Gary heard Ron's words in his head almost as if they were being said then and not a year ago, there are no grand farewells, no famous last words. Too true, Gary thought; just trivialities; then the darkness comes and the darkness lasts forever.


	2. Silence Must Be Heard

Part Two – _Silence Must Be Heard_

_A bridge over the river Thames, 3am 5th May 1946_

Gary sat on the bridge looking down at the water far down below. He had never been a good swimmer, even if he panicked and changed his mind it wouldn't take long before it was all over. It was nice, completely fool proof; it was the middle of the night so no passer-by would be there to interfere, just a little push to get him over the edge. The tears stung his eyes as the cold May breeze cut through him, it was so exposed out in the middle of the river, Gary shivered and felt a sharp pain go up his back as his muscles tensed against the cold.

Another troubled night had brought him here at last. It had been the Xavier nightmare followed by a crippling loneliness as he stared at the walls he knew Xavier would look at too, many years in the future; the walls he had just seen explode into dust. He couldn't do it anymore, Reg tried his best but he couldn't break through to him and make it better. There was no way Reg could ever know enough to help. Reg and Margie just about managed the club on their own now, when he found he was the one making the most mistakes he had withdrawn from that part of his life too.

Gary supposed that he was lucky; if this had been the 1990s his friends would have sent him off to a psychologist by now. If they'd managed to get the truth out of him then he would have then been subjected to much worse. All Reg could do was say, 'cheer up Gary lad' with a desperate look and a wistful glance at Margie. He felt guilty that they had to put up with him like this, yes, better he ended it for all their sakes.

He had spent months without a soul to talk to, now he was truly alone and on the edge maybe he could speak his troubles now. No, ever the Brit, he would feel foolish talking to the wind. Everything that had prevented him from opening up to Phoebe when it could have made a difference choked him now. There was only one place left to go, rather like a time portal in a way but very strictly a one-way street.

He had walked all the way, no public transport at this hour anyway; he had wanted to give himself plenty of time to think about it, see if the feeling of inevitability would wear off at all. No doubts had shadowed his mind and when he reached the bridge he found it easy to pick his spot and climb up onto the edge. Again, he gave himself time to think, stopped himself from doing it immediately. He had looked down and imagined the cold and the dark engulfing him and envisaged himself taking a voluntary deep breath of water, letting it flood right down inside him. He did so again and felt at peace with the thought; just one push and it would be a reality.

"The Thames in May Gary?" a voice that was shocking and at once familiar spoke out of the darkness, cutting through his thoughts, "That'll be cold."

Gary spun round nearly hurling himself into the water anyway. It couldn't be, could it? He couldn't see anybody standing nearby, it must be his mind and memories playing tricks, he thought.

"Who's there?" Gary demanded with an edge to his voice, did whoever was in charge really send messengers to take the ghosts of the dead to their destination, had he missed his own death? Was he perhaps at this very moment floating in the Thames breathing in the water and letting it swamp his lungs? Had he really heard Ron's voice mocking his suicide as if he was still his best friend?

As Gary looked wildly around a man stepped away from an iron girder and out of shadow. Gary immediately recognised Ron but did not register his advanced years in the surprise of the moment.

"You're not a ghost?" Gary asked.

"No, don't worry Gary mate, alive and well; just found myself a time portal and thought I would pop by and say hello," Ron replied in a ridiculously cheerful and casual tone.

"What are you doing here?" Gary demanded in a voice that indicated that he was annoyed rather than scared to hell and not entirely convinced about Ron's status as a real person.

"Following you, what are you doing here?" Ron quickly retorted.

"What does it look like?" Gary snapped, "Leave me alone."

"Suicide, Gazza mate, that's what it looks like. Are you about to explain it differently?" Ron waited while he expected Gary's answer and when he remained silent he continued, "You won't do it." He added.

"I was just about to slip off the edge when you came along actually," Gary replied like a schoolboy who had just been mocked by a peer.

"You won't do it." Ron repeated stepping towards him.

Gary panicked, so much for not getting an interfering passer-by, Ron was totally destroying his sense of purpose. "Stay back or I will jump." He warned.

"Then I'll have to jump in there after you," Ron challenged, "And it does look very cold down there."

Gary cursed under his breath and looked skyward as the tears came to his eyes again. It was just typical that somebody would suddenly take an interest just at the point that he decided he had had enough.

"Why should the cold matter to me?" He asked, "I live in the cold, I have no heart for it anymore," He added with a conviction that surprised Ron enough to make him take a step back, "Don't stop me doing this just to leave me." Gary added.

"I won't leave you," Ron said with haste, "Just come down off the ledge."

"You have to leave, you know you do."

"Not yet Gary, not for a while," Ron continued moving a little closer again, "Aren't you just a little bit curious about what I might have to tell you?"

Gary looked a little closer at Ron, taking his time to appraise the man before him. Obviously Ron had come through to him from a time before he had met Xavier. Gary knew that Ron had been dead by 2052. He was very old but retained a certain vitality that Gary would find hard to beat. Gary was finding it very difficult to age him in the dim light. Xavier would definitely be his son by now, Gary thought. If he came off the edge, conversation was going to be strange and awkward with Gary knowing what he did but he couldn't resist hearing Ron's side of it.

Xavier's words came back to him again; he and Phoebe would be all right. By no stretch of the imagination could that be true any longer. Perhaps everything had changed. The urge to talk to Ron was strong; he would just have to be very very careful.

"OK, I'll talk to you," Gary conceded.

Ron's face lit up at Gary's words, a lump of emotion grew in Gary's throat at the sight. He never had showed Ron his appreciation. Ron approached him and against his wishes Gary started to see only the parts of him that reminded him of Xavier, tears blurred his sight.

"Take my hand." Ron said compassionately holding his hand out to Gary.

Ron's accent had softened over the years; it was unbearable to hear it. Gary hesitated at the gesture; Ron had been living in a society that promoted same sex relationships, for how long though?

"Take my hand." Ron commanded in a firmer tone.

Gary placed his hand in Ron's and felt the fingers grip firmly round it.

"Now get yourself off the edge of this bridge." Ron continued leaning in closer pulling him towards him encouragingly, "And Gary?" he added.

"What?" Gary responded dreading the way the conversation was going, feeling the proximity.

"I am not Leonardo di Caprio and you are no Kate Winslet, so don't slip now, will you?"

Gary snorted a grim laugh before he realised and withdrew his hand again as the sadness caught him immediately afterwards.

"Come on Gary." Ron pleaded.

"He saves her only to die and leave her again." Gary said turning back towards the river.

"Come back to my hotel with me and tell me what brought you here, then I will bring you back and push you off myself, deal?"

"Hotel? I thought you said you just popped by?" Gary observed.

"That's my Gaz," Ron said affectionately rubbing a hand up and down his back, "Come on." Ron offered Gary his hand again.

Gary scrambled off onto the safe path with ease though once he was standing in front of Ron he felt a bit awkward. Fortunately Ron was prepared to take the lead for the time being.

"Why don't we go find something to eat before you tell me what happened?" Ron suggested, "It doesn't look like it's been an easy ride."

"There's not a crumb to be had in all of London." Gary reminded him.

"Oh how soon you forget, Gary Sparrow," Ron said with glee, "What power the time traveller wields." Ron produced a nice thick handful of white fivers and a pristine ration book from his suit pocket, promising Gary the first decent meal he had had in a year.

"You get the food, I'll get the drinks," Gary offered remembering that alcohol was going to be banned. He wondered if that had happened to Ron yet, from the look on his face Gary rather thought it had.

"I thought you would never ask," Ron said leading the way across the bridge and on to The Ritz.

_A suite at The Ritz, London,, 4am 5th May 1946_

The restaurant was closed with it being so late and Ron headed straight for a very nice suite. Gary was quiet, he was stunned to silence and traumatised by the events of the night; half of him was still on the bridge wanting to jump. Ron picked up the phone by the bed and put on a very posh accent to order room service. When he was done he smiled at Gary.

"I've been practising," he said proudly, "Not going to make a pigs ear of it this time."

Gary hadn't heard what Ron had ordered; his thoughts were hurling right out to sea and back again with an alarming swing.

"You followed me all the way from Mayfair to the bridge?" Gary asked as he suddenly thought of the question.

Ron let the smile fade from his face, "Yes, I did." He answered.

"Why? Why didn't you come to the apartment yesterday at a more social hour?"

"I didn't just pop by, I had a reason for coming." Ron started.

"Even so."

Ron sighed, "Gary, I'm from the future, what does that say to you?"

"I don't know." Gary replied more from an unwillingness to think than anything else.

"Curiosity got the better of me about six months ago, I went looking for what had happened to you and I found it." Ron continued anyway.

"Oh." Gary said to show his understanding.

"So, I went all over looking for a portal that would let me through."

"And here you are." Gary said.

Ron stood and approached Gary; he laid a hand on his arm, "Are you OK now?" He asked, "I hope you haven't got any ideas about throwing yourself out of the window?"

Gary shook his head grimly, "I always did prefer the bridge."

"Good," Ron smiled weakly, "Food will be here soon."

"You've changed," Gary observed suddenly, "You dealt with the bridge thing so well."

"Been around a lot of years Gaz, seen a lot of things; dealt with my fair share of depression, just know how to handle things like that now."

Gary felt a surge of guilt well up inside, surely he was talking about Yvonne or even maybe himself. Ron saw it with his wise perception.

"Not everything is your fault Gary," he commented, "I lot of it but not all."

"But you knew I wouldn't do it," Gary added, "You said so."

Ron observed him gravely, "Gary, I came back to change what I knew, if I could."

"What?"

"What I did was obtain your death certificate, I thought I was going to find that you'd died of old age in California or something." Ron explained, "I found instead that you hadn't. Gary, I was just saying things to get you to come down, I never doubted that you would do it, I knew that you had."

Gary was plunged once more into silence, what other person had to deal with this kind of thing. Past, future, what could be the past, what might be the future; just when you thought you had it sussed everything changed into a different uncertainty.

"I can't stay long," Ron said reading Gary's thoughts, "Just long enough to talk this through to the other side, nobody else can do it can they?"

"No, you're the only one, you always were." Gary admitted.

"So, speak to me Gary, tell me all about it."

Gary's throat clenched, he wished that he could tell all; he would just have to tell all that he could.

"How far did you research?" Gary asked, "How much do you know?"

"This isn't about me knowing things," Ron said shaking his head, "This is about you talking about it, just tell me."

"There isn't much Ron, she, Phoebe, she died. We had an argument; she took Michael, walked a few streets on her way home and stepped out in front of a bus. Everything since then has been getting out of bed each morning and not knowing why, fighting the guilt all day long."

"Guilt? Wasn't your fault." Ron commented.

Gary put his head in his hands, "I was a nightmare to live with after the portal closed, and I never thought that I didn't have all the time in the world. I couldn't adjust, for the first time it was just dreary war and endless rationing." And, Gary thought, no Xavier.

There was a knock on the door and Gary jumped out of his skin as he always did now. Ron rose to let room service in; they would postpone their conversation for a little while.

Gary stared in awe as Ron removed the covers on a number of different platters each one piled high. A bottle of whisky stood in the middle. Ron handed two glasses to Gary.

"Do the honours," He said.

It was a very nice bottle of whisky and Gary poured them both a hefty glassful. They both ate in silence, Gary savouring every mouthful.

"Doesn't help that you're half starved," Ron commented as Gary finished off the last of the food washing it down with a big mouthful of liquor, "Or that you haven't slept in weeks."

Gary looked up with surprise, how had Ron become so perceptive all of a sudden. He corrected himself, it wasn't very sudden at all; forty years of Ron's life had passed at least. He started to feel overwhelmed again. Gary was sat on a couch now and Ron came to join him there. Gary noticed for no reason at all that Ron was a bit thinner than he used to be. Gary's hands rested on his knees, Ron gently took his right hand and then held it firmly. Gary tensed, wondering what Ron meant by it.

"Relax Gary," Ron said with some amusement making Gary feel embarrassed.

"Things are just turning out to be different, for me it's only been a year." Gary defended.

"Yes, I know Gary," Ron said softly, "And I'm an old man who needs his sleep, so I'm going to give you something that will give you some rest too."

Gary tensed again in anticipation of where it might be leading only Ron laid his hand back on his knee and leant over the side of the couch. He brought up a briefcase and undid the catch. Everything inside was contained in individual paper bags so he couldn't identify any of the other contents. Ron took out a bag that contained a strip of blister packed pills.

"You won't have come across these, even in 1990s, but they will give you a night's peace from the nightmares." Ron said offering the pills to Gary.

"How did you know I have nightmares?" Gary asked reaching out for the pills gladly.

"The haunted look on your face," Ron answered simply, "Feet up," he commanded.

Gary obeyed and laid himself on the couch as Ron stood up. Under Ron's instruction he washed down two of the pills with the remaining whisky. Gary snuggled down onto the couch feeling almost immediately drowsy, a blanket was placed over him and for the first time in a very long time he drifted calmly to sleep.

Once he was sure Gary was asleep Ron stroked his cheek with his hand, "And in the morning," Ron spoke to his long lost friend, "You can tell me the bits you missed out."

_A suite at The Ritz, London, midday 5th May 1946_

Gary woke to find he was in a rather luxurious hotel room lying on the couch. At first he did not remember what had happened and why he was there, his head for some reason was unclear and didn't want to think. For a minute he just lay feeling more relaxed and rested than he had been in months. This was an odd feeling and he ran through his mind the events of the previous day, forcing himself to make sense of it. First of all he identified that he was at The Ritz, he recognised the décor from the last visit he had made with Phoebe.

The thought of Phoebe led him onto remembering the despair that had driven him to make a trip to the bridge. Then he remembered climbing up and getting ready to jump off and Ron stepping out of the darkness. Then Ron was sitting beside him on the same couch he still occupied after walking him across London. Ron, who was old but still had the vitality to match him physically; Ron, who must still be in a hotel room with him, the friend he never thought he would see again. Gary suddenly sat up in shock only to come face to face with Ron, who was quietly regarding him from his seat on the big double bed.

"Good morning Gary," Ron said cheerfully, "Feeling better?"

"Better than what?" Gary responded grimly. Strangely he did feel a lot better; somehow the heaviness in his heart had eased slightly but he couldn't quite make his words convey it.

"I've ordered breakfast," Ron said eagerly.

Gary remembered how he had promised himself that he wouldn't take Ron for granted this time.

"Before we go any further I want to say thank you," Gary started, "For all you've done, I should have said it years ago."

Ron silently accepted the demonstration of appreciation; it wasn't an exchange they had ever got used to having.

"I do feel a lot better now," Gary added.

"The only way to exorcise the demons for good is to work through them."

"I don't know." Gary said hesitating.

Ron came off the bed and settled himself on the couch with Gary. It made Gary feel very nervous.

"You have too strong a feeling of guilt for the argument you had with Phoebe to be just a little domestic, just tell me Gary." Ron insisted. "What makes you feel so guilty?"

Gary froze, this was getting too close and he didn't know how he could pull out of it. The breakfast arrived but this was only a minor distraction to Ron who was on a mission and was immovable. Ron handed him a cup of coffee but then took his remaining hand in his and held it firmly.

"You can tell me that Phoebe died because you know that I know about that already, just pretend that I know all about everything, I am from the future after all." Ron persisted.

He wanted to confess everything to Ron, without doing so he knew he would just end up back on the bridge. The urge to break down was so strong but there was no way he could ever do so. Gary snatched his hand away from Ron and jumped to his feet, rushing to the window to gain some privacy. "I can't," he said as calmly as he could but his voice sounded strange even to him. The glare of the midday light hurt his eyes and he suddenly felt dizzy and light-headed, he reached out to the windowsill to steady himself.

Ron came to his side "It's just the pills I gave you." Ron explained, he reached an arm round Gary's waist forcing him to lean against the old man, taking some support.

"You never had so much trouble telling me all your troubles before." Ron criticized as Gary's head cleared again.

"You didn't used to be so interested in them," Gary defended in return, "Or so affectionate."

Ron immediately withdrew his arm and Gary regretted his words as soon as he had said them. Ron sat himself back down on the couch.

"Sit down," Ron commanded. Gary was feeling bad about everything again so he soundlessly complied. "Just assume I know everything already." Ron continued again. Gary could tell that he was just trying to help but he couldn't know what he was asking for.

"You can't know this," Gary said miserably.

"What can be so bad Gary? I know all about the lying and the cheating."

Gary just shook his head and wanted to scream, or tell all, in any case his throat just clenched in fear. A silence fell between them and they ate breakfast to cover it. Soon there was no food left and they were left looking at their empty plates.

"You know," Ron broke through the silence eventually in a cheery tone of voice, "The last time you were this quiet was that time I found you sitting in the shop smelling of Marijuana."

Gary swallowed hard feeling like somehow Ron did indeed know everything and was boring a hole through him with his eyes.

"Of course it was legalised in 2040." Ron continued losing the humour and sounding to Gary's over paranoid mind, slightly confrontational.

"You know what bothers me about you Gary?" Ron continued after a minute more of Gary's silence. Gary risked a look at his friend. "You haven't asked me anything. You would think that, coming from the future as I do, you would be eager to know a little bit about what I've been doing, what's happened."

"It's all changed now anyway, you changed it by getting me off the bridge." Gary said trying to gain control of the downward spiral he was on. His head was feeling a little lighter, the anxiety leaving him and making him want to tell all; he was sure Ron had slipped something in his coffee.

"Don't give me that," Ron's voice growled at Gary, "I'm an old man, surely you would like to know a bit about what has already passed."

"You asked me about my life, I haven't finished telling you yet." Gary defended.

Ron shook his head, "Not good enough, where's that guilt of yours? Isn't there somebody you would like to know about?"

Gary could have died and sunk through the floor, he knew about Xavier, Gary thought, it wasn't possible.

"Seen a ghost Gary?" Ron asked. Definitely confrontational, Gary thought staring at him in shock.

"No, I'm fine," Gary resembled, "Is there any more coffee?"

"Don't change the subject," Ron snapped, "Where is your guilt Gary? You haven't asked a single thing about Yvonne, did she mean that much to you?"

How could he say that he hadn't asked about Yvonne because he already knew from Xavier that she was Ron's wife? Gary was annoyed now too; Ron was deliberately trying to get him to ask so that he could tell him that they were married.

"I'm sure Yvonne was alright," Gary snapped, "She always did have a certain talent for survival."

"So," Ron said swinging into totally calm psychologist mode without a blink of his eyes, "We can rule out guilt from your bigamy then, so I can only assume you've been up to something else."

Gary glared at his friend, why couldn't they have just gone for a beer and talked football, Gary wondered. At some point in the proceedings Gary had reclaimed his hand and retreated to the farthest edge of the couch. Ron came closer to him and took a hand in his again.

"Shall I tell you something instead?" Ron said unexpectedly.

Gary swallowed hard but managed to nod.

"Did you know that you talk in your sleep?" Ron asked softly.

Gary froze and went whiter than the milk on the trolley beside them. He couldn't move, not even after Ron started to gently stroke his hand. Had he let slip in his sleep that he had been involved with Xavier? It would certainly explain why Ron had been grilling him so intensely.

"Just tell me what happened that actually gave Gary Sparrow a guilt problem." Ron insisted with a sigh.

Gary sprang to his feet and approached the window, needing the distance between himself and Ron. Ron had remained resolutely insistent on a confession and Gary was feeling so hunted now that he thought he deserved to hear it. If he hadn't already heard, Gary thought remembering the sleep talking.

"I had an affair." Gary said causing Ron to stifle a laugh behind him. Now he had started though, Gary found it easy to continue despite Ron's sudden amusement. "You know I got through to the nineteenth century, well I got bored one Sunday and tried it the other way."

"You got bored?" Ron hissed at him for the first time losing his cool, Gary was startled, he hadn't got to the good bit yet. Well he should spit it out and then Ron could kill him. He waited for Ron to cool down and compose himself.

"I just wanted to see if it would work and then when I got there it looked OK so I decided to stay for a while. Then I got talking to this chap in a bar and we got on really well; we ended up going for a night out on the town and stuff." Gary continued with a cautious voice.

"And stuff?" Ron asked calmly but with a face like thunder.

"In the nineteenth I came across a version of Yvonne, in the future I thought I would meet another Phoebe or something but the future was different."

"That's what its there for." Ron cut in unhelpfully.

"I travelled far into the future and had an affair with a man, a two day fling, that's all it was."

Gary turned to Ron now thinking he was over the worst of it. Ron stared back at him so intently it made Gary step back towards the window.

"A two day fling?" Ron shouted at him, "Gary Sparrow just doesn't care who he tramples on does he?" Ron was furious.

"It wasn't like that." Gary defended weakly.

"What was his name, can you remember?" Ron demanded.

"Yes, I remember, I can't forget," Gary answered turning it around so he could still defend himself, "That's the problem, I can't forget and I will never see him again. I couldn't forget him the day Phoebe walked out on me, which is why I just let her do it."

Gary turned to face the window again; he couldn't keep his composure much longer, it was getting to be too much.

"What was his name?" Ron demanded.

Gary didn't think he cared what Ron did to him now, he leant his forehead against a cold windowpane, "Xavier," he said uttering the name aloud for the first time in over a year, "Xavier Wheatcroft." Silence followed and Gary thought he was going to have to fill it with sobbing but at length Ron spoke.

"Well," Ron said in an amused tone, "I must remind my daughter Suzie never to have a child named Xavier, then all your troubles will be over. Of course it was probably just a coincidence, the surname."

Gary slid down the window and crumpled to the floor; he didn't want to kill himself now, he wanted to beg Ron to do it for him. In one careless moment he had wiped out Xavier's existence forever.

Ron took a deep breath and then breathed out a long sigh sinking back into the soft depths of the couch. He felt tired, the strain of the interrogation affecting him now that he had squeezed the confession out of Gary. He had to admit that Gary did look genuinely upset but he would need to work on him a bit more before he was sure. Enough was enough though; it was time they took a break. He went to the phone and ordered them some refreshments then commanded Gary to sit beside him on the couch. Seeing that he had calmed, Gary complied but to Ron he looked broken and defeated. Ron, with a lump at his throat at the memory, recognised the look only too well.


	3. Another Day

Part Three – _Another Day_

How can I tell you, don't bang your head against the wall

The wall I've been banging and praying might fall.

**Another Day, Mary Black**

_A suite at The Ritz, London, 3pm 5th May 1946_

Ron let Gary rest for a while after they had eaten lunch. Gary had said that he genuinely felt tired enough to sleep, so he hadn't taken the pills that Ron had offered him. When Gary woke Ron would have to start the process of approaching the real reason he had come, he didn't have much time left. For now he was content to sit in an armchair watching his friend sleep tucked up underneath the covers of the bed; he gained a certain amount of peace from it. He had saved Gary and Gary had confessed sufficiently for Ron to know that it had been anything but a little fling. Gary had very little to keep him in the past, the rest would be easy. Ron took another large swig of whisky; he wondered if Gary knew what it was like to be missing something for thirteen long years.

Gary sat in the café staring into his tea; he could vaguely hear Phoebe's voice complaining about something; probably the fact that he wasn't listening. The café was busy but Gary tried to ignore it, Phoebe tugged at his arm and he gave her a questioning gaze. Another customer rubbed up against Gary's shoulder and Gary turned up to see and looked straight into the eyes of Xavier. Phoebe was still tugging at his arm, he still looked at Xavier wondering why there was a tear in his eye, he looked upset. Gary turned back to Phoebe, she was standing up and flinging her coat on, she left the café and Gary knew he must follow. He gave Xavier a glance hoping that he knew that it meant he would be back before launching himself out of the café door.

He was going to save her this time, he just knew he was; Gary ran forwards knowing by now which route she would be taking. He was gaining ground fast, he called out to her; as if his shout was the cue and nothing else, the bus appeared, as always within a few seconds it was all over. Gary hastily turned back towards the café retracing his steps; he turned the corner only to find himself facing the front aspect of Blitz and Pieces Bar. An aged Vulcan bomber, resurrected especially for twenty-first century conflict, flew overhead. Gary watched as it dropped its load sending a bomb crashing through the roof of the bar. The force of the blast threw Gary; he fell on his back. As the dust cleared he found himself looking up into the eyes of Ron as he knelt by his side,

"It's too late Gary mate," Ron said shaking his head, "You were too late."

Suddenly Gary was on his feet and running towards the wreckage of the bar. He dove in pulling rubble aside with a strength he didn't know he possessed, "Xavier!" he cried out, and then to himself, "It's not too late."

Gary became aware that he was being held tightly and that somebody was calling his name. He opened his eyes to find that he was lying down on a bed and that his head was cradled against somebody's chest, their arms firmly holding him close. He recognised the smell of whisky on the breath of the person as they spoke.

"Gary, wake up," the voice said, "It's a dream, it's only a dream."

Gary forced himself to give up his resistance and lay shaking instead, trying to let the firm hold make him feel secure. He opened his eyes and looked straight up to find Ron looking down at him.

"I can't do this anymore," Gary gasped, he was breathing too hard with the panic. Ron vowed to himself not to play anymore games, Gary hadn't talked in his sleep before now, he had been drugged into sleep; what he had just said though told him enough.

Ron felt Gary's breathing begin to calm, a minute more and he would find their current scene embarrassing. Ron encouraged Gary to sit.

"You better have a bath," Ron said playing mother, "There are still things we have to talk about before I go."

Gary looked panicked again, "When do you have to go?" He asked.

"Soon," Ron answered vaguely and to Gary's annoyance though he tried to hide it. Ron sensed it though and smiled to himself, "You know how these time portals can be."

Gary obediently took a bath under Ron's firm instruction. He was glad he had, it was good to get out of the clothes he had intended to drown in. The water was very hot and Gary threw in a bit of bubble bath and sunk down into the depths. He hadn't had a bath in a while, he hadn't cared much for everyday routine; surely he was due more than his regulation depth on this one occasion. Part of him wanted to stay depressed, the part that thought it a betrayal of Phoebe, Xavier and Michael's memory to be able to function normally. The hot water was soaking his cares away though, whether he liked it or not. His brain was starting to think like it hadn't been able to in so long. Suddenly a thought came to him, Marijuana had been legal since 2040, Ron had said so; Gary had met Xavier in 2053 and he definitely hadn't been in his pre-teens.

Gary stood up, suddenly the bath was a hindrance and he started to dry himself as quickly as possible. It was all so clear now, Xavier existed already, Ron was just playing with him; he must know, maybe he had been to the future first. Wasn't it just too much of coincidence that there had been a time portal waiting for him just at the moment he needed one? He couldn't be sure though; it could also be true that Ron had found his death certificate just as he had said, Xavier was a little boy and now Ron would know to warn him off talking to a tall dashing time-traveller, thus saving them all a lot of heartache. Did that mean that sometime in the near future he would suddenly stop hurting? Gary shook his head; all this future-past time-travel consequence nonsense was just clouding his thoughts. The real question was, was he going to let Ron know that he had been at least partially sussed. The answer came as soon as the question was fully formed, Ron had played with him, extent unknown; Gary Sparrow would ascertain by how much and have a little fun making Ron fight for his deception while he did.

Gary felt a little guilty, as he emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist he noticed a pile of fresh clothes on the end of the bed; you could still get anything you wanted if the price wasn't an issue. Ron sat on the sofa savouring another glass of whisky. Yes, definitely post 2040, Gary thought. Once Gary had dressed he joined Ron on the couch and was handed a drink. Gary found that Ron had been drinking quite a lot.

"So how did you find a portal?" Gary asked, "You didn't have much luck with the things before now."

Ron smiled a grim and drunk smile, "Wasn't hard Gary," He answered, "When the bomb went off and I heard what size it had been, I knew there was bound to be something lying open for me there; somewhere."

"What?" Gary said in disbelief, the consequences of Ron's words barely beginning to form, all thoughts of childish retribution gone.

"That whole area, the shop, everything; exploded to nothing in the biggest bomb to hit the city, ever." Ron continued, "You remember what happened the last time a bomb went off in Duckett's Passage don't you Gary?"

Gary's head was spinning in circles with the panic and the memory of the dream, "How long?" He demanded much too sharply, "How far have you travelled?"

"One hundred and six," Ron answered calmly at the risk of making Gary turn even whiter. "2053." Ron answered to Gary's next but as yet unspoken question.

"No, that's not possible." Gary blurted out without thinking, the panic still gripping him. Gary didn't know what was happening, Ron had been dead by 2052.

"He lied to you, about me; I didn't want you to see me, circumstances forced my hand for this current visit," Ron answered to another unspoken question.

Other thoughts were racing through Gary's mind too, the bar, the whole of the East End was gone. Maybe his dream was a premonition of sorts; it had been a new one, and the first time it hadn't been the Mayfair apartment getting blown up. Gary couldn't ask the question though he desperately needed to know.

"The bomb came down with little warning, nobody in the bar stood a chance though at least it was a quick death," Ron began with his very handy perception still working well, "Xavier has been running things in the country since May, however, so at least it was a hired staff who met their end and not my only son."

Gary knew he had looked dramatically relieved but he didn't care, Xavier had taken notice of his advice and he was still alive.

"Looks like fate wants him still alive, though God knows why." Ron commented taking a large grim swig of his whisky. Gary couldn't cope with not knowing anymore.

"Ron, you're from 2053, you and I both know what happened not so long ago, now tell me because I need to know."

Ron laughed a grim drunken laugh to himself, "Oh, you're wrong Gary, he wouldn't tell me a thing, I suppose you don't tell your parents things do you."

"Oh," Gary said, he would have felt relieved if he hadn't already confessed.

"I could guess though," Ron suddenly said with a sharp voice that made Gary jump, "You could see it in his eyes, the way…"Ron began again before thinking better of it and hiding himself in the whisky.

"So how is he?" Gary prompted.

"He's fine," Ron said smiling but not looking up from his drink, "He's managing the estate and enjoying it." Gary couldn't help feeling strangely let down though he was ashamed at himself for it.

"So, Gary," Ron started getting himself sat up straight in the chair, "I've got to go back tomorrow morning, what are you going to do?"

Gary's head was going round in circles; he couldn't think what to say first. Ron was drunk and contradicting himself and now he was bringing up the subject Gary definitely didn't want to think about.

"I don't know," Gary answered.

"You're going back to the bridge, aren't you?" Ron observed.

"What do you expect? Nothing has changed." Gary shouted, suddenly angry. He wanted Ron to make everything all right but there was no way that it could be. No matter how much Gary wanted Ron to stay he knew it wasn't fair. Ron wasn't his to keep; somewhere in 2053 somebody else needed him too.

"I'm still your friend, I always will be; friendship doesn't end just because we don't see each other." Ron said intentionally calm, he forced Gary to look him in the eye.

"What is the point if I won't see you ever again?" Gary asked bitterly. Yes, Ron was right, he would go to the bridge and he would do it right; nothing had changed.

Ron leaned back in his seat, sinking into the cushions with fatigue, world-weariness and whisky.

"I need coffee." He said simply.

At length Ron got up and ordered himself a coffee and quite quickly it arrived. It arrived Ritz style, not just one coffee but a whole pot full and two china cups with matching saucers; all presented on a tray with a lace tablecloth, little biscuits on a side plate.

"We'll dine in the restaurant this evening," Ron announced as he poured the coffee, "Just one more time. You know, this is all gone, back home."

"All of it?" Gary asked dreading the answer.

"Well," Ron said smiling, "All of The Ritz anyway, quite a few other things. The Mayfair flat is still OK."

Gary was offered a cup of coffee and he took it. There were so many things he should be asking but he couldn't bring himself to say them whilst Ron was viewing him so intently. Gary took his coffee to the window and turned to look out. Outside everything carried on as normal, a typical post-war scene, it seemed strange to watch it. The windows framing the action like a movie scene it almost seemed as if this were once again the past. It was as flat as a film to Gary, he could not feel the victory buzz that he had heard about from the newsreels.

"If you could do anything, anything at all, what would you do?" Ron asked suddenly, "What would solve Gary Sparrow's problems? What would keep you from the bridge?"

Gary turned sharply and stared at him, how could he ask a question like that now? "What if I tell you that saying it wouldn't make any difference?" Gary asked.

"Is there anything you want to stay here for?" Ron persevered as if he hadn't heard.

"You know how good I am at living permanently in the past, remember that one time before, it was the same this time; it's a fun place to visit when you can get out again." Gary answered matching Ron's lead; he obviously wanted things to go his way.

"There's plenty women out there, I imagine," Ron pointed to the window, "Who have lost their husbands and need a friendly shoulder to cry on." he suggested.

Gary abruptly turned back to the window and leaned his forehead against it, "No," he said, it was all he could manage.

"Let's dress for dinner," Ron announced unexpectedly, "You can tell me after we get back here."

"What?"

"What you would like Gary? This gives you two hours to think about it."

Gary didn't need two hours to figure out what he wanted, he just needed two hours to work out how to tell Ron if he persisted in asking. He rather thought he would, he just hoped it was leading somewhere constructive. They dressed and went for dinner. Downstairs, Ron suddenly didn't want to talk at all. Everything that was said, Gary initiated and Ron didn't make any effort to prolong the exchange. Gary used the space to think things through and concluded that he would tell Ron, he would answer his questions simply as they were asked. If Ron didn't kill him for how he felt and what he wanted it didn't matter, he was going to the bridge afterwards anyway; it was just a matter of pain levels.

_A suite at The Ritz, London, 7pm 5th May 1946_

It had been a strange meal, Gary thought that it should have felt momentous but it had felt like any other meal at The Ritz. They made their way back to the hotel room as soon as they finished, they weren't a part of this world now and they couldn't talk with ease within it. As soon as they got settled room service knocked on the door with a pot of tea.

"I have to leave here early in the morning, can't go stumbling through the portal onto a bomb site during the day; they were still clearing away the bodies when I left, far too crowded." Ron started once they were alone again. "So, we have until then to do something with you."

"I know what I want but I can't have it." Gary started, he took his place beside the window, somehow he knew Ron wasn't going to let him have things easy.

"Can't turn back, Phoebe is dead, the war is over," Ron contributed.

"Even looking forwards there are things that can't be done."

"Tell me what you want," Ron directed, he wasn't letting go.

"I want…"Gary began from his position by the window, "I would like to go back with you."

Ron smiled, "You know what these portals are like Gary, I could only get through when there was a bomb, you always could though, come back with me then."

Gary was irritated, "You know that I can't," he snapped, "Not without a chip, they would shoot me."

"What if you had a chip, what then?" Ron asked leaning back in his chair.

Gary was not just irritated, he was tormented and angry, "I hope there's a point to all this."

"Just answer me, what would you do if I said that I could get a chip?" Ron persisted.

"I would say that I still can't come since I don't want to go to war." Gary replied.

"We can get round that!" Ron said smirking, "A little glitch that is Gary, teeny little problem."

"Have you gone senile in your old age or are you just drunk?" Gary snapped at Ron.

Ron looked hurt, more so than he would have done in the nineties, it ruined Gary's anger. He took a deep breath, "What I want is not to be alone anymore, not to be parted from those I care about." he said hoping that he was still being suitably vague about Xavier.

"You could live at the Mayfair flat, it would be just like old times; though I would hope you'd treat me better than before." Ron said brightly.

"What about the country house?" Gary asked.

Ron decided to purposely misunderstand, "Oh, that will be fine, Xavier's looking after things there." He answered watching Gary's face.

Gary tried not to let his face fall in disappointment but didn't quite succeed, "I would like to meet him again." Gary blurted before he thought better of it.

Ron's face was stern, "Why would I let you anywhere near my son Gary Sparrow?" He hissed.

"No, of course you wouldn't." Gary said suddenly very interested in the goings on outside. "Do you think he might want to see me?" Gary asked hardly thinking he could bare the answer.

"I don't know," Ron replied casually, "He has never mentioned you since your visit." Ron continued to watch Gary's reaction and was satisfied with what he saw, "So are you coming with me then?" he asked joining Gary by the window and filling his cup with more tea before withdrawing again.

"You can get a chip, you were serious?"

"I've got one in my case." Ron answered smugly.

Gary chose to ignore the implication of Ron's foresight and some other details that were nagging his mind; there was one thing he had to be sure of. "The war thing won't be a problem?"

"No, I have a plan." Ron replied confidently.

Gary decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, surely Ron wouldn't torture him this way and surely he would only say all this if it were going to happen. Gary couldn't think how Ron had managed to get round the problem of war, his head was getting very light and he was feeling very sleepy. "We can't live in Mayfair," Gary said suddenly thinking of another angle through the haze, "It might get blown up, London is no place to be, too many bombs."

"I suppose you're right," Ron conceded, "I'll rent a place somewhere else, a lot of people are leaving and renting places out now, should get something of a decent size easily."

Gary managed to struggle against the crippling fatigue and look suitably deflated.

"What provision did you make for the discovery of your suicide?" Ron asked.

Gary rubbed his eyes struggling to stay standing and not sink to the floor and fall asleep, "Er…Will made after Phoebe died…posted letter to Reg on the way to the bridge." Gary looked into his tea as if he expected to see the guilty substance, as realisation dawned in his fuzzy mind. "You've drugged my tea." Gary accused.

"Would I do a thing like that?" Ron asked grinning from ear to ear.

"Yes, you would," Gary answered trying his best to panic and stay awake, would Ron be gone when he woke, he thought. What had he given him and would he wake at all? "We still have things to talk about."

"No, Gary," Ron said stepping towards him, "We've said all that needs to be said."

"No, you can't do this, you're leaving tomorrow."

"Yes, Gary I am," Ron said taking Gary firmly by the arm, "Come on, over to the bed before you fall over."

Gary complied, he could feel his resistance melting away; he had heard about this kind of thing happening to people, girls in clubs, dragged out looking drunk against their will, unable to resist. He didn't know his friend at all anymore, he had expected something from Ron, he was angry with him for the affair with Xavier but he had never expected anything like this. He slumped on the bed, Ron took his shoes off; Ron pulled Gary to his feet and pulled the covers back then dropped him back down.

"Get in," Ron commanded, "On your front."

Gary did as he was told, somehow he wasn't asleep yet but his body felt so heavy as he struggled to get into the bed; Ron stroked a hand briefly through his hair.

"Just relax Gary, I won't hurt you." Ron said. Gary lay submissively on his front as Ron took his time over removing his clothes, he didn't even flinch as his trousers were slid over his legs. He felt as if he were floating above the bed, he couldn't feel the pressure of it beneath him. Ron briefly left his side and Gary closed his eyes. A moment later his arm was lifted and he felt a sharp pain in his elbow, then the darkness finally engulfed him.


	4. Past The Point Of Rescue

Part Four – _Past The Point Of Rescue_

Last night I dreamed you were back again

Larger than life again, holding me tight again

**Past The Point Of Rescue, Mary Black**

_The Ritz, London, 5am, 6th May 1946_

When Gary woke to the sound of a loudly running bath early the next morning the last events of the previous evening were a blur. He could recall Ron offering him the chance to travel into the future and he remembered accepting. He remembered feeling sad about it, he thought, why? He was lying on his front and his shoulder hurt, so did his lower back; it wasn't pain as such, just a dull ache. A bit more came back to him, Ron had forbidden him from seeing Xavier that was why he was sad. No, more than sad, first the carrot had been dangled in front of his nose and then it had been taken away. He would get to Xavier somehow, once he was in the future; he swore that he would try everything; there was no point otherwise.

Gary tried to sit up and was met with a sharp sting in his shoulder; he rolled onto his side and felt the area. It was covered with a fabric patch like an adhesive dressing and was sore to the touch. He struggled to remember more, then got to the point when he had realised that his tea was drugged. What had Ron been up to, Gary wondered, surely that was him in the shower. Gary tried to lie on his back but felt something digging into his spine; he moved to the side but the obstruction came with him. He reached a hand down and felt another fabric dressing but there was something hard under this one. He was contemplating trying to sit up when Ron came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped round his waist.

"Morning, Gary." Ron said grinning from ear to ear, impossibly bright.

Gary scowled at him, "What have you done?" he demanded.

"My plan Gary, I told you I had a plan."

"My God, you are…"

"Gary, don't try to suggest that I am senile again," Ron interrupted, "There is a plan and it will work with a bit of cooperation from you."

"So we're still going to the future, the both of us?" Gary asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Ron replied, "Or I wouldn't have needed a plan would I?"

"So tell me what you've gone and done to me." Gary repeated his demand.

"That ID chip, it can't sit in a box can it, I had to implant it." Ron replied in matter of fact way.

"You drugged me just to put a chip in my shoulder!"

"Well you wouldn't have let me do it if I'd explained first," Ron answered with a shrug.

Gary was indignant, "No, I wouldn't," he blazed from his supine position, "You're not a doctor."

"Yes, I am." Ron said simply, staring Gary down.

Gary was struck to silence and watched as Ron smirked smugly to himself while he ordered them a very early breakfast. Then Gary remembered something.

"What about the other bit? You've done something else." Gary accused.

"Ah," Ron said pausing, "That's about where the plan comes in, how you get out of the war."

"Just tell me," Gary said firmly with a sense of foreboding, "Tell me what the plan is."

"Well if I gave you any old chip, sooner or later you would be conscripted," Ron attempted to explain, "So the chip has to read that you have been damaged in some way, a bit like Xavier's does."

"Won't they notice?" Gary snapped.

"Oh, do just listen till I'm finished, Gary" Ron snapped back. Gary fell silent and Ron continued, "The chip has medical records on it that will exempt you from any military service, only we will have to travel across country through many road block checkpoints. So, unless you are suddenly a very good actor and think you can pass their inspection, we're going to need a little help."

"I don't like the sound of this," Gary said warily, "What does the chip say?"

Ron took a deep breath; "I was called into the city during the last major raid, sent to search for the living amongst the rubble," he said, "There were many more dead bodies than living but I was issued with a scanner to search for the med histories of survivors as I found them. I had found out about your suicide a few months previously, I was already formulating plans when I came across him."

"You took the chip off a dead body?" Gary asked with disgust.

"They don't hand them out at the supermarket anymore." Ron snapped.

"OK," Gary backed down meekly, "Just tell me."

"He was badly burnt though that obviously wasn't on his record. He had been a soldier and was about your height and build. Chaos reigned that night, didn't take much to pick the flesh back and remove the undamaged chip from underneath, put it in my pocket." Ron paused and Gary tried to wait patiently. He guessed that Ron wasn't so at ease with this as he was trying to make out, "The man had sustained a lower lumbar lesion leading to complete sensory and motory deficit, six months previously."

Gary gave Ron a blank look and Ron's eyes gleamed with the excitement of that night's discovery.

"It was perfect, the man couldn't walk, would never be able to; would never have been able to had he not got fried." Ron enthused.

Gary was weighing up once again whether his friend was truly operating on the same level of sanity as himself but managed to keep quiet this time.

"When we travel out of London we will come across many checkpoints." Ron continued, "They will ask us to get out of the car whilst they search it. You will have to be convincing for them, they will have scanners and they will have guns. Simply, the device in your back makes the details of your chip a reality, well the effects of it anyway. I'm not going to sever your spinal cord." Ron added laughing nervously at the end.

Gary couldn't help but eye him with suspicion still, "Well, as you can imagine, I am glad to hear that."

"It's reversible, don't worry," Ron added quickly, "Once we're established in a house a good distance from any road, then we can turn it off."

"I don't know what to say," Gary said numbly.

"I know, it's over whelming but we don't have the time, if you want to come, this is the deal."

"I'm still coming, not like I have many other options." Gary said, he thought Ron looked relieved that he wasn't backing out; maybe Ron needed his old friend back too.

"I can maybe get another chip from a man who's died from a sudden trauma, keep it till after the war, then you'll be able to live a more normal life." Ron offered.

Gary thought that Ron could well be dead by then, thus leaving him permanently in this bizarre pretence, he didn't mention it. "I won't say that I'm especially happy about this."

Ron smiled, "I wouldn't expect you to be, it's going to be a very weird experience and it is very clearly illegal." He said, "However, we must get going, if we're going to talk we'll have to do it in the car on the other side."

Gary eased up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. It was as he was getting dressed, momentarily alone in the bathroom that he realised that Ron would have him pretty much under house arrest. There were no opportunities to go seeking out Xavier built into Ron's plan; beyond the house he would be dependant upon him for everything. He would have to opt for pleading shamelessly instead.

_The East End, London, early am, 6th May 1946_

Ron led Gary through streets that he knew so well now. They passed very close to The Royal Oak but didn't go down Duckett's Passage. Gary felt tense though somehow detached from the proceedings too.

"I hope, after all this, the damn time portal is still working." Ron joked; Gary was too wound up to see the funny side. The thing that really freaked Gary out happened, Ron was noticing things again. "I'll give you something to calm you down once we get to the other side." He offered.

Gary's back still hurt; he didn't know yet what Ron had actually done to it. Ron was doing very well for his age, he was setting quite a fast pace and they had hardly had any sleep in the past couple of days. Gary followed trying his best not to jar his back, Ron didn't seem to be concerned about his condition at all but he didn't trust him very much at that moment, he had been far too sneaky.

In the end the time portal experience was one of anti climax. Just like it had been when he had made his first trip to the past there was no feeling as he went through. Ron did not prompt him, there were no signposts; he was just suddenly walking through rubble where a moment ago he had strode on a pavement. The area was clearly identifiable as a bombsite; it must surely be dangerous to be treading across it. Ron slowed now; the jagged stone was too much for his unsteady elderly gait. Gary looked in awe, there was not a complete building standing for over a mile. Somewhere in the near distance he could make out the shape of a car parked on a semi-cleared road; they were heading towards it.

They proceeded slowly and Gary took Ron's arm for both their benefits. They had only walked a short while when Gary's view changed to one of the inside of a building, brightly coloured with details of chrome. He felt a tug on his arm and was pulled backwards. It was all rubble again and Gary turned to Ron.

"Looks like that bomb shook up more time portals than I realised," Ron commented, "Do not let go of my arm."

They picked their way as slowly as they could manage now, Gary pulled back and they detoured every time he saw his foot or hand sink into a past or a future. He couldn't deal with any more time travel just now, he still had Ron's plan to live out and he couldn't wait to find Xavier. Even to know that they were in the same time zone made Gary's heart lighter. Xavier and Ron were all he had left; he would cling on to them no matter what. Their last night together had been filled with talk of moving on, not letting the past rule the present, having a life; he had failed Xavier as he had failed everybody else.

Ron's car didn't look too much different to the ones Gary had been used to in the nineties, on the surface anyway. It looked strange parked up on the side of the road amidst all the destruction. Ron stepped up to the door of the car and opened it to let Gary get in on the passenger side.

"You didn't lock it?" Gary asked in surprise.

"The car recognises my chip." Ron answered.

"Oh."

Ron smiled to himself, "You'll be asking me if it runs on petrol next." He teased Gary.

Gary got into the car, if Ron was going to extract amusement out of his glaring naiveté then he didn't mind at all, he could allow him that much. However much had or hadn't changed, he was going to need Ron a lot.

Gary got into the car and Ron shut the door on him and got in on the driver's side. Gary became a little concerned over Ron's ability to drive but he had learned by now not to say anything.

"Right, this is it," Ron announced, "We're going to drive out of the city now, so we'll have to start on the next bit of 'the plan'."

Gary had nearly managed to forget about this after forcibly pushing it to the back of his mind. Ron opened up the case on his lap and removed a plastic looking object sealed in a plastic wallet.

"This is similar to what I put in your back," he explained, then he pointed at the edges of the part of it which was rather disc like, "This bit sits on the surface of your skin and over the next few days will fuse with it, meaning it can stay in for a very long time, no infection." A tube protruded from the disc, Ron pointed that out next, "This bit goes right inside wherever you want a drug to be administered," he continued, "There's a flap on the disc surface into which a small capsule can be placed, it's a slow release device, very commonly used."

"Will this hurt?" Gary asked cowardly.

Ron smiled at him in a manner more sympathetic than the teasing earlier. "No, Gary, the whole point is that you won't feel a thing."

Gary knew exactly what he meant and suddenly his chest tightened in fear, this was just too much for his head to deal with. Ron reached into his case and took out a packet of tablets.

"I'll give you one of these," Ron said holding out a little pink tablet to Gary, "They're a bit like a mild valium." Gary took the tablet and Ron gave him a small bottle of coke to wash it down with.

"What now?" Gary asked.

"Now lean forward and pull your shirt up," Ron replied, "It'll take a while to work so I have to do it before we go anywhere."

Gary was trying hard to convince himself that this was Ron's time and he knew what he was doing. He was having difficulties with the basics though, Ron, a doctor? It was just too bizarre. He was in 2053 though and he didn't want to go back. It wasn't just Ron telling him it was dangerous for him, he had heard it off Xavier too, he would just have to trust Ron.

Ron could tell that Gary was hesitating because of his fear. "We can skip this bit," Ron said, "Only you will have to put on a perfect act for them if we get stopped."

"I can do that, it'll be OK; I've just got to sit still, right?" Gary said.

"There's every chance that we'll have to get out of the car while they search it, happened to me six times on the way down here," Ron explained, "They might let you stay in the car, only things have been getting a bit more tense in the last few months and they might insist. Anyway, if they did, it would mean that you would have to let me do it or they might volunteer themselves. They'll have guns to wave about, big guns."

Gary weighed up the options and decided that he didn't want to be running any risks where guns were concerned; a coward still, he thought. He leant forward with his arms folded on the dash and his chin resting on them.

"Just do it before I change my mind," Gary said, "I don't know what I'll do if anybody pulls a gun on me."

Ron didn't say anything he just leaned over and felt up Gary's back. He pulled the dressing back, flipped the cap open on the disc and inserted the capsule. He turned a small switch before replacing the dressing and straightening Gary's clothes.

"How's the valium?" Ron asked.

Gary didn't know whether it was the Valium or not but as soon as he had felt the switch being clicked he felt a bit better. There were no more decisions now, which could be part of it, just travel and progress. He felt a little dreamy and light suddenly.

"It's fine," Gary said smiling at Ron, they were on their way home and he was not going to be alone anymore; yes, part of it was definitely the Valium but he was happy too. Ron started up the car, which was very quiet and exceptionally smooth as they drove off. Gary felt very sleepy; he leant his head back and closed his eyes.

"Fantastic suspension," Gary commented.

Ron chuckled to himself, "This is top of the range kit," He said, "We're not on wheels, we're hovering."

Gary smiled as he struggled to stay awake a moment longer, "Well I am."

"Oh dear," Ron said to himself, grinning smugly, "Maybe they weren't mild valium after all, more like full strength; just can't read labels properly at my age."

Ron stole a look at his sleeping friend once more before turning his full attention to the road. He smiled to himself as he drove feeling happier than he had done in months. His mission was almost complete and rather amazingly successful. All he had to do now was get Gary home and hope that he had done the right thing.

_On The Road, England, 6th May 2053_

Gary shook his head as Ron turned a corner waking him up abruptly. His head still felt fuzzy.

"I do wish you would stop doing that." He said to Ron who tried very hard not to look amused. Gary's shoulders were feeling stiff and tired, he had been curled into an awkward position and sleeping upright in a car was never a good idea; he really did wish Ron would stop drugging him. He tried to shuffle himself to get comfortable and found that very little became of it. Panic almost gripped him through the haze, he couldn't move his legs at all; he shifted them with his arms and leant back in the seat with a sigh.

Ron slowed the car and pulled up by the side of the road. "Do you want some more drugs?" Ron asked.

"No," He answered, "It was just a bit of a shock that's all, I didn't think about what it would be like."

"It will take some getting used to but we're more than halfway there now." Ron said with sympathy in his voice, if he were honest with himself he was feeling a bit weirded out too. He put a hand on Gary's arm to reassure him.

Gary looked around at the vastly changed scenery; they were in the countryside but there were no soft rolling hills. The hills had a rugged quality that set it apart as moorland, maybe Dartmoor or somewhere farther a field. The sun was low in the sky to the left of them and Gary had a feeling that they had been travelling some time considering the dose of drugs he had been given. Suddenly whether he could walk or not wasn't the only problem.

"Where are you taking me? Where are we?" Gary asked Ron letting the panic show in his voice.

"We're near what used to be the M6 motorway and just about to pass Carlisle, you've been out for about eleven hours," Ron answered, "I've arranged for us to take a nice house near Glasgow, sorted it while you were asleep, when we passed through Manchester. Glasgow hasn't been hit nearly as hard as the cities in the south, we'll be well out of the way of danger."

Well out of the way of mischief too, Gary thought sadly to himself. Ron was making a very good job of this, he added to his thoughts, they were going as far as they could without running out of motorway; easy for Ron to drive back to London, an impossibility for Gary. He looked out of the window; it did indeed look like they were moving close to Scotland. There was nothing about the scenery that made it particularly 2053, which surprised and worried Gary. The car though, it was definitely hovering; they were at least some way forward into the future Gary thought.

"Can I drive on?" Ron asked breaking through Gary's contemplative silence.

Gary turned to his friend, "Yes, I was just thinking." He said.

"Everything will be all right," Ron said judging Gary's mood, "I know what it seems like now but I promise you'll be happier by tomorrow, OK?"

Gary smiled grimly, "I don't like to believe all the times I hear that everything will be OK."

Ron rubbed a hand up and down his arm then to Gary's horror let it stray up to his shoulder, across his chest and then round his neck. Ron massaged his neck before running his hand further up into his hair. Ron had been looking down but he raised his eyes up to Gary's and stopped abruptly at what he saw there, he snatched his hand back.

"I know, I know," Ron said glumly, "I'm just much too old these days."

"It's not that." Gary said trying to make things better.

"What then?" Ron said looking hurt, "I always thought we were the best of friends."

"We've been parted for only a year and I remember perhaps better than you; friends meant something slightly different then."

"I suppose," Ron said as lightly as he could as he started the car up again, "Friends is good, I suppose I just needed to know."

They pulled away from the side of the road and Ron concentrated heavily on the driving. Gary began to wonder what he was going to do to make this new life work. He worried about how the two of them were going to spend all of their time together in peace. It occurred to Gary that Ron might not live much longer; he looked at Ron then but pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

They drove on for endless miles through countryside that changed little in appearance as they progressed. Gary didn't really appreciate the speed until a long line of traffic slowed them considerably. Gary looked into the distance and found that the tailback went on for miles and was stationary not far in front.

"Oh, not again," Ron said in an irritated though slightly resigned voice, "We've had to pass through five of these already."

"I thought eleven hours was a long time." Gary commented.

Ron turned to him, "This is the queue for a checkpoint," He announced to Gary's horror, "The Scottish border."

"What are we going to do?" Gary asked, clearly panicking.

"The same as we did for the other five I suppose," Ron said sounding bored more than anything.

"What am I going to do?" Gary asked still panicking.

Ron sighed and faced him, "Nothing, Gary," He said, "That's the point; stop looking so guilty, that would be a start."

"The wound on my back isn't even healed yet."

"You're chip says you're an injured war hero, what do you think they're going to do?" Ron continued starting to sound tired and exasperated, to Gary he just sounded callous.

"What the hell have you got me into?" Gary snapped.

"You wanted me to bring you here," Ron defended, "I never said it would be easy, you knew about the war."

"I knew about the war a year ago, now I only know what you've told me which isn't much." Gary said looking out of the window.

"I will tell you anything you want to know, there just isn't time now and I'm tired, just trust me for now."

"I don't trust you anymore." Gary said to the window resting his head against the cool glass. Gary wanted to have it out with Ron badly but this was hardly the time to go falling out.

"What do you want to know?" Ron asked placing a hand on Gary's shoulder.

Gary turned to see Ron leaning over him and the car jerked forward.

"Who's driving?" Gary asked with a gasp.

"It's on auto, a distance of two metres will be maintained between us and the car in front."

Gary tried taking a deep breath to relax, with every jerk they came closer to the checkpoint, the distance was closing faster than he thought it would. "Are we going to be safe?" Gary asked, "In this place you're taking me to."

"Yes, very safe." Ron replied confidently.

"Is Xavier somewhere safe too?" Gary continued.

"Yes, also very safe, you think I would let my only son be in danger while I saved you?"

Gary looked down into his lap, "No, you would do anything for him and then see to me if you had some time left over."

"Yes, exactly so," Ron replied.

"Are we going to be safe for a long time?" Gary asked dreading the answer.

"I'll explain about the war when we've had a rest but for now all you need to know is that we'll be fine." Ron replied in soothing tones.

Gary sank back into the seat and tried to relax a bit more.

"Of course, if we get invaded that will be a different matter," Ron added with a smile as he turned back to the traffic in front.

"What do you mean?" Gary demanded.

"Well," Ron replied regretting his slip-up greatly, "They're not hunting the Jews this time."

"Ok," Gary said turning away, "You're right, maybe later, I don't think I want to know."

"I haven't been straight with you, I imagine you've guessed that much," Ron confessed suddenly, "Tomorrow morning, I promise things will be different then, just give me till tomorrow morning."

Gary agreed to Ron's request in bewilderment, he didn't know what to say; he had noticed that things hadn't been entirely honest between them but he didn't have any idea where it was leading now.


	5. The Time Is Now

Part Five – _The Time Is Now_

You're my last breath,

You're a breath of fresh air to me,

I am empty, so tell me you'll care for me,

You're the first thing and the last thing on my mind,

In your arms I feel, sunshine.

**Moloko, The Time Is Now**

_On the road, Strathclyde, 6th May 2053_

They passed through the checkpoint with ease, the guard were getting tired and ready to change their shift. Gary thought it was just as well since he looked as guilty as he possibly could. As they put distance between them and the guard Gary breathed on enormous sigh of relief. Ron was quiet, it was getting dark and he needed to concentrate on driving, Gary was glad of the space for the thought it afforded him. He was glad that they hadn't insisted that they get out of the car, Gary still had to face that one but at least he wouldn't have to do it with a gun pointing at his head. He felt guilty, he didn't know how Ron was going to manage, he may have medical advances on his side but he was still too old to have to deal with this kind of thing.

Gary wondered what Ron thought of everything really, he had worked all his long life, surely he would have hoped for a bit of peace and quiet by the time he reached eighty. Poor Ron, Gary thought, this damn war meant that he was still working, sent out to search amongst the rubble of bombsites looking for survivors; tending to the injured with the planes still flying over head quite probably. If only he could go back and tell the Ron of the 1990s all this, he would never believe it.

Maybe it was an hour after the checkpoint, Gary couldn't tell because he had been miles away in his thoughts; Ron pulled over into a lay-by and stopped the car.

"We're nearly there," Ron said turning Gary's way, he sounded weary, "Lean over, I can turn that thing off now."

Gary willingly rested his head on folded arms on the dashboard and felt Ron reach his hands up underneath his shirt. "How long?" he asked.

"It's not going to wear off completely for a few hours yet, turning it off now though will make things less difficult when we get to the house."

"I hope you've got plans for that." Gary commented trying to sound casual about the situation and hoping it would have a calming effect on him.

"Don't worry Gary, Uncle Ron has it all in hand."

"Grandpa Ron," Gary corrected.

"Of course I could always drop you Gary," Ron retaliated with a smile.

Gary surprised himself with how much more at ease he felt joking about things with Ron. To be serious, frightened and depressed had been the easiest to achieve but it had been eating him away. Gary tried not to think of all that had happened to him in the last few days, he tried to believe Ron and not doubt him. He tried not to think too much about Xavier, at least he was safe somewhere.

The car pulled off the main road and through some gates, they drove through a large garden and pulled up in front of a floodlit eighteenth century mansion; Gary could just see it having the word 'hall' in its name.

"All this for the two of us?" Gary asked amazed at the sight.

"Yes," Ron replied, "We need the space in order to maintain our privacy."

They had stopped and Gary was well aware of what came next; well the basic idea anyway. Ron got out of the car without a word and went round to the boot.

Gary had a faint tingling feeling in his feet and legs and if he really concentrated he could move a little, it was nowhere near enough. Ron opened the door and placed a wheelchair alongside, the gap was bridged with a smooth board. Gary gave Ron a look that said a million things.

"Xavier's," Ron offered, "He doesn't need to use it anymore but then you would know that."

Gary couldn't tell from that statement whether Ron was still hostile over him meeting his son. He rather thought that Ron was beginning to soften. Ron gave a deep sigh as he leant forward to help Gary presuming his lack of action was lack of ability. In that moment Ron looked desperately tired and it pricked at Gary's sense of guilt.

"I'll manage," Gary insisted easing Ron's hands off him, "Somehow I'll manage."

Gary felt suddenly exhausted when they got inside the house, he could see that Ron wasn't feeling too lively either. The last few days had taken their toll and it was now showing all too clearly.

"You should get some rest," Gary observed.

"I will just as soon as you're settled," Ron answered obviously trying to pick up his spirits.

Ron took him along a long corridor and then up a small lift onto the first floor.

"This is genuine 18th century I imagine," Gary tried to joke; he was too tired and feeling too weird for it to be a success.

"This used to be a health farm apparently, lots of space and all the gym facilities left as they were." Ron informed him, "Have to have something for you to do all day."

They entered a very large bedroom and Ron helped Gary to get into bed and strip off his clothes.

"Do you want anything to help you sleep?" Ron asked looking as though he was about to collapse on the spot.

"No, Ron, no more drugs," Gary answered, "I just want the straight truth and a clear head."

"Ok," Ron said smiling weakly, "All of the truth tomorrow morning and sleep well because there is nothing to be known that is worth lying awake over."

Gary wasn't convinced but he let Ron go to bed, leaving him in a dark and silent old house miles from anywhere that he wanted to be.

_The Mansion, Strathclyde, 2am, 7th May 2053_

Sometime after 1am Gary was woken by a scream coming from nearby; he jerked awake unsure about whether he had dreamt it or not, he would have been sitting bolt upright by now if he could have managed it. He was surprised to find himself in a state of recently awoken haze; he had lain awake so long that he had thought he would never fall asleep. The countryside was too silent compared to 1940s London, compared to any London in fact. Gary listened for a while; all he could hear was the creaking of an old house. A few minutes later though there a faint sound, Gary had to concentrate hard; it was sobbing and it seemed to be coming from the next room, there was no way it could have been from further away.

Gary hadn't heard Ron go into the next room but then he had been too busy tossing and turning as best as he could manage, getting more and more irritated with his temporary infirmity to notice much at that point. He was surprised to find now that he could wriggle and turn over onto his front. He lifted his head to the headboard trying to hear more; it was a nightmare by the sound of it. Without really analysing the options Gary tried to sit up and get out of bed. He found that his legs were like jelly, the first time he tried to stand he slipped to the floor. It took forever to struggle back up onto the bed. Gary persevered though, he had vowed that he would be a better friend to Ron and this was where it started; he would just have to wait a few more hours.

Gary tried to doze for a while and found at 3am that he could get up onto his feet. He still felt a bit wobbly and strange but he didn't think he would fall over. He made for the door and turned left to get to the next room. He pushed the door open gently trying his best not to make too much noise. The crying had stopped a while ago and he didn't want to wake Ron if he had managed to find some rest. The room was completely dark, the heavy curtains and countryside location meant there was no light but that of the moon shining through a gap and sending a thin line across the floor. The line caught the end of the bed and Gary felt his way forward across the large room till his knees stopped up against the mattress.

Ron lay in the bed on his back and was breathing with the sound of sleep. Gary felt along the bedclothes for a shoulder and rested his hand there for a few moments. He could feel the breathing of the man he held. Gary gently caressed the shoulder so that if Ron were awake he would be reassured by it. They were both responsible for each other's happiness now. It stood to reason that Ron would have nightmares after all that he and his family had been through. If he needed comforting Gary would be there, just as he had been for Xavier.

Gary's hand moved from the right shoulder and reached across to the left, caressing that one also through a layer of t-shirt, he seemed to be deeply asleep now though. He then ran his hand down the right arm soon noticing that it lay across his chest on top of the covers. Gary sat on the side of the bed; he would hold his hand and keep to his side, as he wouldn't sleep much if he went back to his room anyway.

Gary's hand got as far as the elbow before he felt something hard on the arm he caressed; it felt like a cast. This wasn't right, Gary thought, this definitely wasn't Ron. He was horrified; it hadn't occurred to him that there might be anybody else in the house. He dreaded to think what would happen if a strange servant caught him there. Gary felt along the arm, it was an immobilisation cast of the sort used for a broken wrist. He felt the fingers, they were smooth and young, the person still didn't move at the touch. His hand lay close to his chin, it wasn't far for Gary's hand to travel till his fingers touched the chin and slid up to the left cheek. It was a man but a young one definitely; significantly not Ron, Gary felt a little dampness on the skin below his fingers; fairly fresh tears.

Gary stepped away from the bed and to the curtains, this person must be a servant of some sort but there was an evil sprite playing with his mind; he needed to see whom it was so the torture would stop. Logic was fighting to stay in the running otherwise, Ron had forbidden him from seeing Xavier so there was no way he would place them not only in the same house but with only a wall between them. Gary at the same time could hardly bare to let the moonlight in and shatter the possibility that it could be him. The sprite jumped again; who else could it be, it nagged, if he had been a servant he would have been called to help Gary get out of the car. Gary turned to the window and pulled the curtains back. He stayed still, looking out of the window not daring to turn around. The grounds surrounding the house were huge, much more extensive round the back, it seemed so unnecessary for just the two of them. Did Ron or Xavier ever say where their 'country house' was, the sprite jumped in Gary's brain.

"No, impossible," Gary whispered to himself, all the way up in Glasgow, it didn't seem likely that The Mansion was here; it was big though.

Gary continued to look out of the window; quite a bit was illuminated by the floodlighting. He looked to the right and an object in the bedroom reflected the light and caught his eye. On a chair in the corner near the edge of the window lay some clothes, discarded and tossed down in a heap; propped up against the chair was an aluminium elbow crutch. As the sprite jumped up and down with glee Gary swung round so violently he nearly fell over and gasped at the sight his eyes now beheld. Ron had been playing with him the whole time but Gary didn't care. He had led him straight to the bedroom next to Xavier's. He must have been feeling very smug, Gary thought, as he fell asleep that night.

Xavier moved his head to the side suddenly causing Gary to sink into a shadow cautiously. His face was twisted in pain or maybe sadness, Gary heard a pleading voice say 'no', shaking his head gently from side to side. Gary could see fresh tears sliding down the young man's face in his nightmare. When Gary heard another sobbing 'no' he could stand it no longer, he stepped toward the bed.

Gary remembered how Ron had held him and soothed him when he had dreamt badly; he had known what he was doing. Gary wanted to do the same now, Xavier hadn't slept this badly when he had been with him last but he imagined that nightmares had not been unknown to him, then or now. Gary surmised that comforting Xavier after his war was probably how Ron had known what to do. Now it was his job, Gary thought. Gary closed the curtains once more, if Xavier woke and found him looking down at him with no warning he might well die of shock. He climbed up onto the bed and shuffled up beside him, if he woke Gary would sooth him with words and try to sound as much like Ron as he could.

Xavier was still very restless in his sleep, Gary heard whimpering and felt him moving beneath the bed covers. Xavier's right arm reached out and grabbed the duvet crushing it in a tight fist as he jerked away as if something had struck him. Gary could see a little better now as he became accustomed to the extreme dark once more. The left arm made no move at all but lay completely still across Xavier's chest. Gary reached over and held the fingers that were protruding from the cast; they gently closed around his own. Gary felt a wave of sadness as he contemplated what might have happened to Xavier recently to cause this.

Gary nearly jumped out of his skin as Xavier's right hand suddenly grabbed him as he screamed as if in agony his whole body shaking. Gary prised his hand away and firmly placed Xavier's arm over his shoulder and lifted him up into his arms, holding him close against his chest, emulating how Ron had held him a few days ago. He held him tight against his chest till the trembling ceased and he relaxed slightly. He rocked Xavier whispering soothing words to him and he eventually relaxed so much that he became floppy, a dead weight in Gary's arms. His anguished whimpering turned to despairing sobs as he cried freely, his head resting against Gary's chest.

Gary gripped him tightly, "Ssh," He soothed, "It's ok now, it's all over."

"All over," Xavier echoed sobbing all the more and tensing again.

"You're safe," Gary continued hoping it would serve better.

"Don't go," Xavier pleaded.

"I won't go away ever again and I'm here till you've done with me."

"Just hold me," Xavier said calming slightly, "I'm glad that you're back."

"I'll not let you go," Gary said stroking a hand through Xavier's hair feeling him relax a bit more. The sobbing had ceased and he was breathing more slowly.

"Oh Gary," Xavier said as he took a deep sigh and melted in Gary's arms.

It wasn't much longer before Xavier was sleeping peacefully and Gary's eased him back down onto the pillows and covered him over. Outside it had begun to get lighter and Gary knew that he should return to his own room before Ron discovered that he had ruined his little surprise.

_The Mansion, Strathclyde, 7am, 7th May 2053_

When Xavier woke again he felt happier than he had done in a long while, he felt rested and fresh. He lay with his eyes still closed savouring the memory of what had happened. He had woken in the night in Gary's arms, hearing his words, feeling his touch. The horror had ended, Gary was alive and he had come back; the proper sleep that this had led to had been just what he needed. If he didn't move at all his shoulder wouldn't start to ache and his ankle wouldn't hurt so much; his wrist still throbbed persistently but then it was broken. He didn't mind much now, his night time visitor had been a man and his father had said he would be away for at least a week on war work, he had never come home early; it just had to be Gary. Gary had told him he would never leave him again; Xavier had a wonderful thought, if he opened his eyes Gary would be there with him now, somewhere in the room.

Xavier couldn't resist, doubt never entered his mind and he eagerly opened his eyes and looked around the room only to find that he was on his own. Not a single thing had changed in the room. The joy was quickly replaced with bewilderment and heart crushing sadness; surely a dream could not have been so reassuring and real yet so cruel and unreal. Of course it was impossible, even if he was alive and the portal hadn't closed down there was no way he could have got up to Glasgow. He wouldn't even have known where to go, he would have just found rubble where the bar used to be and no one to ask. All his friends were dead and the 'Blitz and Pieces' dream along with it, one night of bombs and it had all been swept away; he wished that he had been there too. Tears came to his eyes as the despair flooded over him, he could see the sun was shining beyond the curtains but there was no sun in his heart.

He glanced at the bedside clock through tear filled eyes; he would have to sort himself out, it wouldn't be long before Suzie paid him her morning visit. She was his sister and they loved each other to bits but she was career military, she was an early morning girl and brusque with it, she had no time for him being pathetic. She didn't know about Gary, he hadn't told his father either. Suzie thought him a fool for taking Gary on as a friend, he could imagine what she would say if he told her the rest. Suzie disapproved of the whole time-travel issue and his willing involvement in it; she was very much her mother's girl.

Xavier had something to be thankful for, at least he wasn't his father, he thought grimly. When he came back Suzie was going to kill him, or at least he would wish he were dead. His sister was a lot more anxious in her work these days, he could tell from her haunted look that it was all falling apart. He had had to drag her halfway across the country when he couldn't get in touch with his father and she would be using him as the scapegoat for the entire war when she got her hands on him.

He wished that he had been more careful now and not fallen. Both Suzie and his father were involved with the war and he felt useless enough just plodding his way through the accounts and spending most of his time brooding over what might have been. He couldn't shake the thoughts out of his head though, he couldn't get through it; all he saw was darkness and misery and the word 'suicide' typed in early twentieth century typeface on a tattered piece of white paper. He knew he should have taken the time to tie the bandages properly if he was going to resist wearing the heavy brace that lay unused in the wardrobe. He should have been looking where he was going especially in the old formal gardens; he shouldn't have been there as it grew dark. He knew that every time he damaged an old wound it might not heal but two days ago he hadn't cared one bit; he had thought he was only hurting himself. He hadn't expected to fail in his endeavor.

He had had his phone with him but the people at the house had gone home for the evening and he couldn't get his father to answer. He had called Suzie, she had come running and after they had been to the hospital and she had brought him home and tucked him up in bed, she had lectured him till he cried. He did that all the time now but he still didn't tell her why.

_The Mansion, Strathclyde, 7.30am, 7th May 2053_

Ron left his room, he felt much better now that he had had a decent night's sleep back in his own bed. The Ritz was supposed to be the best but in the 1940s they had not appreciated the benefits of a firm supportive mattress. He looked at the clock that hung over the fireplace in the gallery as he passed by; it was still quite early. He was finding it hard to decide how to approach the next bit.

On the one hand he was dying to see Xavier but he also had to encounter Gary before he woke up and started wandering. The whole thing was starting off another headache, once upon a time you got to rest up in your old age, he thought grimly. Then there was the question of how he was going to bring them together without it being too much of a shock, he already had a plan but didn't know what he would do if it didn't work.

He decided to see Xavier first; Gary had had a hard few days and would likely be crashed out for a while yet. Xavier, however, nearly always rose early even if he didn't do much with himself after that. Ron took a deep breath and sighed it out, one decision successfully made. He made off down the gallery in the direction of Xavier's bedroom. He had been worried about him when he had left for London, there was nothing to suggest that anything could have happened to make that worry redundant or he wouldn't have had to make the trip. Xavier had been hiding behind his work but couldn't hide that he was slipping into the kind of depression that had never managed to grip him when he had been ill. He wouldn't talk about it no matter how hard he was pressed.

Ron wouldn't have had any idea still if it hadn't been for finding the box of documents hastily and untidily crammed back onto a shelf in the attic. It had just been a routine reminisce, he had just wanted to flick through a few things from the old life. The box was always kept tidily, it was a rare and precious thing, Xavier had appreciated that and he had always handled these things as if they were the most rare things imaginable. Suzie scorned these preoccupations with the past but she would never leave them like that either.

That was how Ron found out, he had lifted the box off the shelf to set it back in order and he had found the death certificate on the top. He always kept things in chronological order with the certificate at the bottom. Gary had died just before his time travelling adventures began but he had taken the precaution of moving abroad just before he was born, at least that was what their little collection used to imply.

Ron had read the certificate over expecting to see familiar words, heart attack and 1992. He had read suicide and 1946 in their place, he had placed the box down with the certificate lying on the top still and gone down to the estate office. He had looked Xavier in the eye and knew that he had seen it too. He saw the guilt and the helplessness this had caused, he blamed himself and cursed the moment he had ever set eyes on Gary Sparrow.

Ron strode down the corridor, remembering had made him all angry again; it was just as well he wasn't going to see Gary first. He turned the corner, not looking ahead, knowing where he was going.

"Father!" He heard Suzie's voice calling after him accompanied by the quick footsteps of Dr Marten clad feet. He turned in surprise as she caught up with him. He did not like the look in her eyes at all.

"Where the hell have you been?" She demanded to know in her best military voice.

Ron really couldn't be bothered with confrontation but he was concerned to know what was behind it.

"I was away on business in London, why are you here?" Ron responded.

"I had to come up from base, I couldn't get you on your phone, I couldn't find you."

Ron's heart sank, there was relief and worry mixed in her tone. "What's happened?"

"It's Xavier," she said dramatically and then paused.

"Ok, ok, I'm sorry, I'll let you shoot me later, just tell me what happened."

"You really shouldn't leave him alone like that, did you know he's depressed?"

Ron panicked admirably, "What did he do?"

Suzie relented taking a deep breath, trying to ground her anger, "He fell, could have happened anytime, he just couldn't contact you so I had to come up, I could really do without this right now."

Ron looked sheepish hoping she wouldn't question him too much on the non functionality of his phone, "How is he?"

"Sprained ankle, broken wrist, nothing serious," Suzie replied slipping into carer versus doctor mode, "I'm more worried about his state of mind."

"I know," Ron replied, "This business trip was only a business trip in a sense. Half the time I have to be away, there's no choice in that. I've been finding somebody to stay here with him, a companion and an assistant too, the man has no family so he can live in."

Suzie shook her head, "What are you thinking of? He'll just love you for that. Don't you know your son at all?" Suzie said getting angry again.

"Yes, I do," Ron snapped back, he guessed he was still tired, "If he doesn't like this person then I promise you I will never leave him alone again."

"Fine," Suzie snapped, "I'll not place money on a bet."

"Suzie, go back to base, everything will be fine," Ron said in a gentle soothing voice, recognising that Suzie was probably just as stressed as he was. He wrapped his arms round her in a hug; that always disarmed her fury.

"Wish I had your confidence," Suzie mumbled against his shoulder.

"Well, the war's going pear shaped but Xavier and I will be fine."

Suzie laughed grimly, "Yep, it's not going too good."

Ron held her away from him, "Take care."

"I'll try," Suzie replied wishing she could spend a few more days in Scotland, the war beckoned however, "I'll be sending you some instructions soon, I can't disclose the information they're based on but I need you to follow them no matter how ridiculous it looks, ok?"

"Yes, you have my word."

"Can this new man of yours be trusted?" Suzie asked.

"I've known him some time, I've altered his chip; if he leaves this house without my protection he's a dead man."

Instead of looking pleased Suzie frowned, "You worry me sometimes." She linked arms with her father and they made their way along the corridor to Xavier's bedroom.

They both went in together but Suzie approached Xavier's bed first. His head was turned to the side and his eyes were closed. She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. He had just been dozing; he turned over and looked up as she straightened back up.

"Your father came back last night so I'm going to return back to base," Suzie told him, "I'll try and get back up but it won't be for a while."

"My father's back?" Xavier asked with a look of disbelief.

"Yes, he's here," Suzie said beckoning Ron forward. Suzie thought that Xavier would be pleased but he seemed to be fighting back tears, "How's your arm?"

"Still hurts."

Suzie unlocked the drawer of the bedside cabinet and pulled out a bottle of pills. She handed Xavier two with a glass of water.

"Right, well I'll be off, I just need to talk to your father before I go." Suzie announced.

"Keep safe," Xavier called after her as she ushered Ron out of the room again.

"Get him some help." Suzie instructed Ron once they were back in the corridor.

"I've just done that." Ron defended.

"I mean proper help."

Ron laughed grimly, "Where do you think I'm going to find a psychologist these days?" he asked looking at the floor, "Or anti-depressants for that matter, all I've got are sedatives, pain killers and a few other things that wouldn't be much use."

"Well you'll just have to dig out a textbook and figure it out for yourself," Suzie replied irritably, hugging her father to take the sting out of her words.

"I've tried all sorts of ways, I got him through the last time remember; it was just a bit clearer what was causing it then."

"You know fine well what this is all to do with." Suzie snapped.

"Do I?" Ron snapped back.

"Don't think I didn't notice when this all began, it was you and your time-travel fairy-stories, don't you think it's about time we were allowed to forget?"

Ron wanted to tell her everything but he rather suspected that she might kill him for it, "Let's not argue, I don't know when I'll see you next," Ron said hugging her again, "I'll try my best I promise."

"I never really unpacked so I'll just get off." Suzie returned the hug and was gone.

Ron returned to Xavier hoping that his surprise would do the trick; he didn't know what else he could do.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," Ron began sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I suppose Suzie told you what happened." Xavier said in a monotone looking towards the window.

"Well I think you've probably had a good scolding from your sister so I'll not mention it," Ron replied in an attempt at humour.

"Hmm."

"Anyway, the purpose of my visit led me to bring somebody back from London with me." Ron said approaching the subject as best as he could.

Xavier's head snapped round, "Why?"

"I just thought you could do with somebody around here."

"The estate is fully staffed." Xavier stated plainly.

"I meant to live in, to sleep next door."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Are you matchmaking with one of your friend's sons or something? Because if you are then I don't want it, I won't meet him." Xavier insisted turning away.

Ron sighed, "No, I'm not doing that, he would just be here as an assistant, an office assistant, you don't even have to like him or talk to him."

"I don't need anybody, the fall was just one of those things, it would have happened anyway. I can manage perfectly well, I have done for months."

"I never suggested that you couldn't cope."

"What then?"

"I thought you could do with a companion who would live in and…"

"I don't need a nurse either."

"I didn't suggest that," Ron said sighing again, "I'm just talking about somebody being here to be called upon when I'm away, somebody who can hand things over when they aren't within arms reach, lend you an arm when you go outside, just whatever you want."

"Are you not going to leave me alone until I agree?"

"You're getting the picture," Ron said trying to sound encouragingly cheerful, "Just think what it would be like to be able to ring a bell and get a massage whenever you want one."

"And have to make strained conversation with a stranger."

"Just meet him Xavier, just humour me a little, I just want to help." Ron persuaded.

"I'll sack him as soon as you go on your next trip."

"That's fine with me, just meet him."

Xavier sighed, he just wanted to be left alone, "OK, I'll meet him," he conceded.

"I'll bring him down to the breakfast room, are you getting up?" Ron asked.

"Well if I don't he'll end up thinking I'm a pathetic invalid who can't look after himself." Xavier snapped.

Xavier complied passively as Ron checked his ankle and bandaged up his leg properly, he didn't receive any protest when he retrieved the long neglected leg brace from the wardrobe and fastened it securely; the fall must have given him quite a scare Ron thought. Ron helped him with his clothes too since his shoulder was looking a bit bruised, all without complaint. He had chosen a pair of jogging pants and a sweatshirt, which Xavier pulled over his broken arm up to his knuckles. He sat on the edge of the bed and Ron gave him the crutch.

"Meet me in the breakfast room in half an hour?" Ron asked placing an arm on Xavier's undamaged shoulder and giving it a friendly rub. Xavier nodded a reply and Ron left to go next door hoping that Gary would be a little less trouble.

Xavier sat for a while fighting to stay stern and composed, his father never came home early when he was away, he repeated to himself in his mind. His father always slept in the next room and it wasn't unheard of for him to come through and hold him while he shook off the last traces of a nightmare. He had said all that stuff too, as if it had been Gary, embarrassment and anger mixed together; he couldn't bare the thought of his father knowing and surely he would now. Slowly he slipped off the side of the bed and tried a little weight on his ankle, he hadn't been out of bed since he had come back from the hospital. His efforts were met with a sharp stabbing pain but it was bearable. He made his way to the bathroom, it was his first attempt in months to get not only cleaned up but smart too; he didn't want his father's hired help fussing him too much.

Ron found Gary up and ready, although he did jump out of his skin when he came into the room. He was fully dressed and he was looking out of the window across the grounds surrounding the house.

"I've got breakfast ordered, we need to get down to the breakfast room in half an hour, I didn't think you would be up yet." Ron said cheerfully.

"I didn't sleep much," Gary replied though Ron thought that he looked rested enough, in fact he looked quite a bit happier than he had done the day before. Gary removed himself from the window and came to rest on the bed; Ron joined him there.

"How is everything?" Ron asked.

Gary knew what he meant, "Still feel a little bit wobbly, a bit strange but I'm OK."

"Good," Ron smiled, "I thought that over breakfast we could get down to discussing your new job."

"Job?" Gary asked bemused.

"Yes, Gary, the medical records on your chip are just a cover remember, the best way to get used to your new life will be to just jump straight in there."

Gary remembered about Xavier and tried to correlate his knowledge with Ron's words and smiled inwardly to himself; Ron didn't wish to keep him in suspense much longer. "Yes, that would be best, I was just wondering what you would be having me doing."

"I hadn't worked out your exact duties yet," Ron admitted, "We'll just say that it will be in keeping with your status as my friend and not too obvious to the immediate locality. You'll probably be able to amuse yourself some of the time and help me out when I need it."

He was going to reintroduce him to Xavier, Gary thought with a glow. This must be the house in the country and Xavier was working here. It was very likely that he was going to be employed in the same offices as Xavier, helping him more than Ron directly. Yes, he could amuse himself quite well he imagined. Gary was amused as Ron attempted to distract him with the many electronic gadgets the room possessed while he kept sneaking a look at his watch every five minutes. Gary had to admit he was impressed, with the tasteful and subtle deployment of technology and Ron's scheming abilities; he hardly reacted at all when the door to the next room opened and closed. In fact Ron kept on talking without a pause and very neatly waited another five minutes before announcing it was time to go down to breakfast; precisely five minutes.

_The Breakfast Room, Strathclyde, 8.30am, 7th May 2053_

Xavier sat down in the armchair by the French windows with a little bit of irritation. The room was empty apart from the food on the table and his father had so specifically said half an hour. Once sat he realised that he was going to have to get back up again if he wanted a cup of coffee, the table had been pulled away from his chair. He would have thought to have a word with the cook if he hadn't suspected that his father had something to do with it. He pulled himself back to his feet and attempted to pour some coffee. The jug of milk kept slipping over the cast as he tried to grip it and he splashed some milk on the tablecloth at the third attempt; he didn't dare tackle the hot coffee pot. Burning with frustration, he had a go at buttering some toast while it was still hot but he had the same difficulty with the knife. His shoulder was aching with the movement and he wished that he hadn't got out of bed. Suzie had insisted that he rest for a couple of days, he had got sick of it but now he thought that she had had a point.

Xavier didn't often admit defeat but he slumped back down in the chair to wait for his father. He thought that he heard voices outside the door, he was quite sure there was somebody there he just couldn't make out what they were saying. Xavier presumed it must be the hired help that his father had brought with him, he breathed a deep sigh and looked down at his hands thinking that he would like nothing more than to be left alone. No, that wasn't quite right, what he wanted to do was finish what he had started three nights ago in the garden. He took a deep breath and tried to fight back the thoughts that were filling his head, he had to be composed; he knew his father would enter at any minute.

Ron regarded his friend closely as he stood outside the breakfast room blocking the entrance. Yes, he thought, it was time, time Gary knew what was going on.

"Gary, before we go in, I want to tell you something." Ron announced.

Gary could hardly stop himself reacting wildly, "Yes?"

Ron looked at the floor feeling suddenly awkward, "It's about Xavier."

"I think maybe I know what you're trying to say." Gary said noticing that Ron was finding it difficult.

"You do?" Ron said looking up sharply in surprise.

Gary was taken aback by Ron's reaction, "Well I think that I do." He faltered.

"Gary, I need to tell you that it was Xavier who found your death certificate, it was Xavier who discovered that you had committed suicide."

Gary allowed what Ron had told him to sink in, he hadn't been expecting this and he stared at Ron blankly as his heart filled with lead.

"We've always had it," Ron continued, "It's lain in a box in the attic for years, sometimes we get those things out and look through them. Only it's changed, your death certificate changed sometime after you visited Xavier."

Gary was suitably crushed, "But I thought you said that he had never mentioned anything about me."

"He hasn't," Ron said quietly, putting a hand on Gary's shoulder, "I found out, he didn't put it back quite right after he read it."

"I want to see him," Gary demanded passionately feeling like his chest would explode. Ron continued to block the door.

"No, not yet, you can't just walk in there, I have to tell him first."

"He doesn't know?"

"No, and if he doesn't want you here you will have to leave, do you understand?"

"Where would I go?" Gary asked bewildered.

"I would find you somewhere."

"He will want to see me." Gary asserted as he remembered his encounter earlier that morning.

Ron gave Gary a look, which made him see that he didn't think it was likely. "Stay here." Ron commanded.

Ron slipped through the narrowest of gaps and went into the breakfast room. Gary took a step back and stood in the corridor thinking about whether he would follow instructions or not. The temptation to go in was great but Gary stayed outside the door. It was more to do with fear of rejection than obedience. On the one hand he couldn't wait to go rushing in, on the other he didn't want to know a truth that sent his whole world spinning again. He was a time traveller but he couldn't turn back his own internal clock, he couldn't bring Michael or Phoebe back as they were before; he feared that the brief bond he had formed with Xavier may be destroyed too.

Ron approached Xavier, he was faced towards the window but he didn't think he was looking at anything. This was all too familiar to Ron now; Xavier was quite often lost in himself and unreachable. He noticed that the breakfast table had been touched; he observed the spilt milk and Xavier's empty hands. It had been a cruel trick but he needed Xavier's anger today, at least he would be interacting and not just going through the motions of a life.

"I've brought your new assistant to meet you." Ron announced as he helped himself to food and coffee, taking his time as Xavier looked up to watch him. He wouldn't ask for help, Ron knew it and it was killing him. Ron openly savoured his coffee and Xavier looked down at his lap, his good hand clenching so that his knuckles turned white.

"Send him away," Xavier hissed, shouting was not his style even when severely provoked, "I know what game you're playing."

"You said you would at least meet him." Ron reminded him.

Xavier didn't answer, Ron pressed on. "You might like him, you have met him before."

"I have not met anybody who I would like round here watching my every move, making conversation that's strained and unwelcome. I don't want to be helped. I want to be left alone."

"To do what Xavier? To sit and stare at the walls as if there is nothing left? To think about things that are unchangeable? To be left alone to go walking into the gardens as the light fades?" Ron demanded and was met by Xavier's silence and a feeling that he was mentally shrinking back. "There's one person you would like to be here isn't there?" Ron continued, "You've shut me out but do you think I don't know? Do you think I don't feel responsible for the whole mess? Do you imagine that I haven't looked in the attic?"

"Don't."

It was only one word but Ron knew that he was on the right track, he had Xavier's attention. "I would never employ somebody who I thought was unsuitable." Ron said mildly and watched the confusion spread over Xavier's face at the apparent change in subject. He tried to complete, he tried to get the words out and tell Xavier that Gary was just outside the door but he faltered. He wanted to break it to him gently but there was no way he could think of.

Gary was still standing in the corridor, he could hear voices but the big solid wood door muffled them. All he could hear was Ron but he presumed Xavier must be in there too. It seemed to be taking forever. Then the talking stopped and the silence stretched a little too long for comfort. The temptation became irresistible; he took a step forward just as Ron opened the door and poked his head out, "Want to come in for breakfast?" he said trying to sound cheery but his face was lined with strain. Gary gulped; there had been an argument.

Gary had no idea what propelled him into the room; it certainly didn't feel like his legs were responsible. He saw immediately that Xavier sat in a chair by the window, to Gary he looked pale and ill; he didn't imagine he looked any better himself.

"Xavier?" Gary said hardly thinking that he sounded like himself at all. He wanted to rush forward but something that came over Xavier's face when he looked up; it stopped him cold. It was horror and disgust. Gary could only stand on the spot with all his insides feeling like they were twisting round inside before sinking down his legs. He didn't know how he was still standing. Rejection, the thing he feared most was now upon him.

Xavier turned to his father, "What have you done?" He demanded his voice full of bitterness, "What have you gone and done now?"

"Xavier, this is your new assistant, I told you you would like him, didn't I?" Ron answered trying to keep things together even though he was a bit confused by Xavier's reaction; he didn't know how he could have read him so wrong.

"Not like this," Xavier said fighting back tears and pointing sharply at Gary who stood still frozen to the spot.

"Like what?" Ron demanded on the edge of patience, fatigue washing over him like a tidal wave.

"What kind of doctor are you? Which strange sick friend of yours did you get to do this?"

"Nobody, I did it alone."

"Get him out of my sight, how could you think I would be satisfied with this?"

"I thought you liked Gary, I thought that you would like to have him back."

"Yes, but not this, not some biologically perfect clone with only as much character as you could remember to give him, only as many memories as you think he had." Xavier spat at his father.

Now Ron knew what he was dealing with, he approached Xavier's chair and bore down on him using his height advantage to command authority. "He is no clone, I wish I had thought of that, it would have been so much easier. No, he is the real thing, he lies, he cheats, he deceives and he has all the memories you'll ever need."

Xavier turned to the window; he always hid when he couldn't bare his emotions any longer, "How?" He asked, "It's impossible and you know it."

Ron stepped back, he felt exhausted and thought he might fall. He slumped into a chair at the other end of the breakfast table and leant back closing his eyes. "Gary, will you stop just standing there like a statue and tell him?"

Gary still stood near the door frozen to the spot with a face whiter than flour. His mind started to race at Ron's words, he had to convince Xavier and then he would be his. He had to tell him something that only the two of them would know. He tried to think, a few things came to mind but he didn't know if he had the nerve to say them in front of Ron.

"Xavier," he began, "I am the real Gary."

"Oh nice one." Ron chipped in with sarcasm.

Gary looked to Ron, he still had his eyes closed. Suddenly a thought came to Gary, he remembered something that Xavier had told him that Ron had forbidden him from telling him. He hoped Xavier was OK at lip reading.

"Xavier look at me," Gary insisted, "Just look at me one more time and then I will go."

Xavier's head slowly turned, Gary could hardly bare to see the pain etched there.

'I love you son, I am your mother', Gary mouthed the words to Xavier, 'Until forever fades away.' Gary was so glad that Xavier hadn't told anything to Ron now, as he had said, a clone would have only the memories that Ron knew about, 'Lost Witness' Gary added for completeness.

"You remembered the name of them," Xavier said, the expression on his face beginning to change as the realisation took over.

"Yes," Gary said out loud, "Only two tracks, 'Red Sun Rising' and 'Happiness Happening'."

Ron opened his eyes at the sound of Gary's voice, something was happening but he was confused by his words. A Code, it had to be, how could they have a code between them in two days.

"I know which one I would like to play now." Xavier stated, he leant over and tried to pick up the crutch without taking his eyes off Gary, as if he would disappear if he weren't constantly observed.

Gary stepped closer and leant over in a gesture that was bolder than anything he had ever attempted before. He took Xavier's hand in his and he dropped the recently retrieved crutch. Gary lifted Xavier's arm over his shoulder and began to lift him. Xavier responded and assisted the help that was offered. Gary supported Xavier's broken arm with his own and wrapped the other round his waist drawing Xavier close. Xavier leant in towards Gary and rested his head on his shoulder.

"Don't go, don't leave me." Xavier whispered in Gary's ear.

"I won't," Gary reassured with a light squeeze, "I will go the day after you want me gone."

Ron closed his eyes with a smile on his face, "I'll just close my eyes and have a little nap if that's OK with you two." He announced clearly.

Acknowledgements

One More Time, The Cure, 1987.

The Sound Of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel.

Silence Must Be Heard, Enigma, 2000.

Another Day, Mary Black.

Past The Point Of Rescue, Mary Black.

The Time Is Now, Moloko, 2000.

Happiness Happening, Lost Witness, 1999, Sound of Ministry.

Red Sun Rising, Lost Witness, 1999, Sound of Ministry.


End file.
